September, I love you.

I’m blogging to you live from Wingaersheek “How’s that spelled again?” Beach in Gloucester, MA where my in-laws have a place and we spend our summer holidays (or “summer,” if you verb that particular noun, which we do not, because it makes us sound like something we are not). Labor Day is the last hurrah, and one of my favorite times here because it’s usually nice and cool at night. It’s a bit of a bad hand for an introvert, though, because there are roughly a trillion people here for dinner each night, and that’s right about when I run out of steam and need to escape. I am currently hiding in our bedroom off the kitchen. Nobody seems to know I’m here. The wall is so thin that I might as well be in the other room, but for a little while, nobody can see me.


My small boy has gone to bed. Poor little guy, I found him in the crush just lying down on the couch with his dankie*, glassy-eyed and silent. Both boys run themselves so much at the beach that they come home with beach fatigue for at least two days after. My older boy went out with his cousins to see the fireworks someone brought for the holiday weekend. Later, it seems a game of Uno is in the works. It’s technically his bedtime, but nobody has the heart to get on his case on the last holiday weekend of the summer. Tomorrow night, we can lower the boom. Besides, he’s still high on losing another tooth last night, after a couple of weeks of copious wiggling. We didn’t bring the usual tooth fairy treats, so were in a bit of a panic about how to represent, but his Nana came up with a good substitute.

Oh, just heard someone asking where I am. I was out there the whole time. Prove I wasn’t!

I’ve been knitting my second Francie sock and getting a great deal done on it. A few uninterrupted hours (!!) and I might even finish it. Then I have to decide how to announce that I’ve cured Second Sock Syndrome. There has to be some respectable professional journal that would be interested. It’s a serious disease! Like any cure, I suspect this will lose its effectiveness over time, but in the meantime, hey, I have two pairs of socks for the winter. I still have the little matter of needing new sweaters for work, but that’s a bit of a problem because I’ll have issues affording sweater quantities of yarn for a while yet. I don’t have much. Maybe enough for one. Perhaps if I take the odd balls of Wool of the Andes that I was saving for a blanket and make them into some sort of circus-inspired garment… I’m trying to limit my plans to knit for Christmas. My husband wants a Shetland sweater, but that won’t be done by then. Nobody wants any many-tentacled sea creatures, thank goodness. I owe one baby blanket that is mostly done, and a toddler blanket that is half done. Now that it’s getting cool, I can stomach the idea of working on the Hudson’s Bay blanket again.

This is my absolute favorite time of the year.