This morning on the radio, the DJ told a story about how weird it was that she woke up and had a black cat cross her path on Halloween. After all, it’s supposed to be unlucky for black cats to cross your path.

I don’t think that’s so strange.  Boo, my black cat, crosses my path every morning, trying to herd me to the breakfast dish.

Boo!

more…

I’ll refer you over to the painted tiger today.  She’s got some lovely hand dyed roving that makes me wish I were a spinner.

Gorgeous, Brooke! You outdid yourself!

Black walnuts always look so interesting to me.

I remember gathering these up when we were small, to dry and then crack for Gran.  I recall her loving them.  I believe they must be an acquired taste, because I recall them being bitter and not nearly so nice as English walnuts, the kind of smooth shelled walnut normally found in the grocery around here.

There’s no shortage of black walnuts around here.  This time of year, sound of cars pulling out of the driveway is punctuated with sharp pops and cracks as the tires roll over the fallen nuts.  Some days I think it’s a miracle I don’t step on one, fall, and break my ankle because the ground is so thick with them.

The outer husk decays away, leaving a tough, gnarled inner shell that must be cracked to get at the nutmeat.

I always wondered if her taste for them came from her childhood. Nutting was a popular past-time in the Victorian era, and Great Grandma Johnson could have learned it from her mother.  Gran grew up during the Great Depression.  The frugality of foraging for nuts to supplement the table would have certainly fit with the ethos of that era.

blown from the west
fallen leaves gather
in the east

- Basho

orange leaves on the trail

One of my favorite things about this time of year is the interplay of color.  Vibrant oranges, yellows, and reds nestled among leaves and grasses that are still green.

red leaves between the green painted bridge and the leaves that haven't changed yet.

It was overcast all day and I had a migraine until late evening, so I didn’t get any new pictures of my projects.   Still, the leaves are beautiful and I find myself unable to complain about any of it.

Sometimes, I’m really happy I have cats. When you come home, it’s good to know that you’ve been missed while you were away.  The boys always let me know I was missed.  Even if I just stepped outside to decide if I need to rake some leaves.

These three faces always greet me when I come home. Usually because they want something, like treats, or the litter box cleaned. Sometimes they even purr and cuddle, as if to say they missed me. Sometimes.

My lawn is really starting to need me, too.

It's good to be needed. Right?

I’ll leave some leaf litter on the lawn over the winter, to provide protection for the sod.  The rest, however, will be raked away.  Too much ground cover can smother the lawn, or so I’ve been told.

This is pretty, but too much ground cover.

There is speculation that this weekend was the weekend for peak color in these parts.  I’m glad I decided that I didn’t need to rake that badly yet.  Instead, I took my camera out and went for a hike.  These leaves will still be here in a day or so.  I’ll post pictures in the next few days.

Saturday mornings, I meet with Pookie and Ninniacrhiel to have coffee talk. (I’ll give you a topic.  The Holy Roman Empire was neither holy, nor Roman. Discuss.) This week, my niece (the Ninlette) came along, too.  We did some shopping at Old Navy, and she picked up some new, colorful clothes, which she had to model.

All at the same time.

Without any regard whether or not the colors were “happy” together, or not.

The Ninlette shows her colors

My eyes are still bleeding.  The headache is starting to calm down, though.

The Ninlette really shows her colors.

I don’t think she liked it when I told her that she was so going to be in the blog.

We were considering building a new home, but decided to put off building for at least a year because of the economy.  Instead, we’re talking about the possibility of new furniture.  We went out to look at sofas after work today, but the furniture trip wasn’t very successful.

We’re not in agreement on style and color, and it’s such a big purchase that I can’t really justify it if we don’t agree.  We decided to table the discussion, at least until the weekend.  Besides, I feel like most financial decisions should be put on hold until at least after the election, and probably until the New Year.

I didn’t get to go out looking for fall color to photograph, making yet another thing that isn’t moving forward.  I found this picture from my summer gardening photographic experiments.  The color is so fresh and vibrant, and the veining reminds me of lace.

Petunia close-up

Once Liesl’s off the needles, maybe I should start something other than Gnarled Oakwoods.  Something circular, organic, and vibrant pink. Something in raving denial of fall.

Maybe I should just celebrate what is, even if what is seems like eternal changeless sameness. Like the mountain or the ocean. Stasis

Except it never really is eternal or unchanging.  Not even the mountain or the ocean.  It’s little more than the pause at the bottom of a deep breath.

Saturday I had two migraines back to back and was mostly useless Sunday.  Monday afternoon started the latest migraine, which lasted through this evening and seems to be gone now.  I haven’t been able to make any progress knitting or go for any hikes.  I know I need to stay patient with the new migraine treatment, such as it currently is, but I’m feeling very discouraged right now.

In reality, I’m expecting too much.

The success rate of most prophylactic medications is approximately 50%. Success in preventing migraine headaches is defined as more than a 50% reduction in the frequency of headaches.

I’d like them to stop completely.  That’s not a reasonable expectation.

Since I don’t want to turn this blog into whine time, I’m posting a picture from late June.

A sunny yellow lily to remind me time renews all things.

I don’t remember why I didn’t share it back then.  Maybe so I’d have something for weeks like this week.

It wants to be a liesl. Really. It said so.

It’s a good thing yarn doesn’t go stale because this yarn has been sitting in my stash since about this time last year, when I realized that “potato” is not a shape that looks good in a Cherie Amour.

I’m still debating my next project.  I’m tempted by a sweater using the persephone yarn, but I know that Cherie Amour isn’t that sweater. I went back and looked at all the Cherie Amour projects again and I just don’t have te body confidence some of the larger ladies who’ve made it had.

I’m thinking about swatching up Eiffel and doing a yarn substitution as I think the overall look of the sweater will be better for my figure.  I also think it will be easier to add short shaping in the ribbing top section to accomodate the girls.

Then again, maybe that yarn just wants to be Liesl and doesn’t know it yet.  The yarn is brown with silvery gray brown patches and a soft lavender undertone.  It could could be very pretty as a long sleeved Liesl and I need a new sweater for work.  I’m freezing already.

On the stole front, I’m still torn on which comes first between Muir and Oakwoods.  I’ve got some Woolen Rabbit Laceweight in Morrocan Spice (like this one in a Ravelry Stash), which would make a nice fall colored Muir.  So would the Knit Picks Campfire.  Oakwoods, on the other hand, is calling too, and would be so perfectly seasonal.

The ideas are still bubbling, so I haven’t cast on a darned thing yet.  Cursed indecision, anyway.  If I haven’t narrowed down the pattern for the sweater by tomorrow, I’ll probably cast on Oakwoods next, simply because I’ve figured out both pattern and yarn.