summerific

It’s summer. Rather, my teaching gig has ended. I have about a month and a half to live the other half of my life, at least that part which is not compromised by obsessing over future employment. Which is a factor in my potential enjoyment of summer. I play a little game, in my mind, called “If I had a job for this fall, I would…” Right now, I’d buy some black capri pants, board my dogs with Marie and buy a plane ticket to the mainland, to the East Coast, to visit my Olde Country. The black capris have nothing to do with the trip, indeed, it’s too damn hot and humid in Virginia to want to be trapped in black pants of any kind, but I’m charmed by them, and the potential for Audrey Hepburn fashion, nevertheless.

In lieu of future employment, and the security to enjoy travel that it would provide, I will immerse myself in domestic pursuits. First, some concentrated housecleaning, as well as a continued clutter purge. Bathing and grooming of the truly filthy dogs, and finally beginning the little kitchen garden I’ve been fantasizing about for months. Some more sewing, a thorough wash of Rainbo’s cage, as well as a re-arrangement of living room/koa room furniture.

Oh, and lest you think it’s all drudgery and grind here at The Knitted Brow, Erin gave me, as my going-away present from work, a $30 gift certificate at Blockbuster. DVD’s to be rented to ensure some concentrated knitting of the boring parts of my Hourglass Sweater, I’m thinking the sleeves will need some media feed to get me through that stretch of dullsville stockinette in the round.

Our Plumeria tree, which I thought was dead, has re-leafed, and started up an enthusiastic, fragrant bloom that does my heart good.