LMN, or proof positive that the Laws of Thermodynamics can be mocked for a time, but never actually broken. While all manner of spinning and felting and parading around has been going on, my entries for the
ABC-along (also laundry, dishes, mowing, weeding, etc.) have been neglected. Oops. Catching up now.
L is for
lemonade.
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It's the summer elixir of
life – there's nothing like a cool glass of lemonade on a hot day. Not to mention it's a mighty engine of commerce. Every summer there are dozens of
little lemonade stands run by tiny entrepreneurs roundabout Exit 151. These wannabee
tycoons do a brisk business parting homebound bus and train commuters from their pocket change. I
like mine very
lemony, not too sweet, with
lots of ice.
L is for
little pink socks. I do
love a sock that is little and pink (including
the Little Pink Sock of
Mutts fame) and it would seem that I am
not alone.
L is for
lavender, one of my favorite fragrances and colors. I'd
like to grow some, although from what I've seen of Provence and its pale chalky soil, I suspect the plants won't like the red clay roundabout Exit 151.
And
L is for
linen and
lambswool and
llama and
Lyocell.
M is for
maps.
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Maps
merge form and function, practicality and frivolity, accuracy and imperfection,
mathematics and politics, utility and beauty,
mystery and
mastery, representation and abstraction. It's no wonder that
mapping models are called projections. I heart maps. Among
my many favorites are these new
NJ bike tour maps, spread on an ancient
Rand-McNally Road Atlas.
M is for
modular knitting. I'm blithely indifferent to the various
methods –
modular, cellular,
multidirectional, or domino – each has
merits and drawbacks. Of
more interest, I'm currently swatching for a doozie of a project, one of those things that looks like a shapeless
mass for the longest time. It's delightful to
me, although at the
moment incomprehensible to anyone else.
More on this in a bit.
M is for a-
mazing. While I was slowly pondering
making my first yarn into a
mosaic cap, someone at
Knitty went ahead and put together a
pattern! It's fibery synchronicity!
And
M is for
mohair and
merino and
microfiber.
N is for
New Jersey.
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(I've borrowed
Cara's Knitting Olympics button because it's just so wonderful.) Well, the state is open again, after a six-day budget impasse between the legislature and the governor that furloughed almost 100,000 employees (more than half in the private sector) and shut down state offices, state parks, state beaches, the DMV, the state casino regulators and, therefore, the casinos (gasp!)
and after flooding along the Delaware River that, among other things, inundated the state capital and merited federal disaster area status (and federal bucks) for
New York and Pennsylvania. What? Whadduya mean
no one
noticed??
N is for
nostepinne (or, if you please,
nøstepinde) and
niddy-noddy. Their virtues are many, but I prefer a ball winder and a skein winder.
And
N is for
nettle, said to be similar to linen, and
nylon.
See the rest of
my ABCs.
1 comment:
My Mom use to grow lavender down in Clifton. Same soil, give it a try. She did use live plants, not seeds.
Jen
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