As you can see, I’m braving the heat and working on the shawl outside. It’s only true after dark, and this particular coffeehouse sits on a corner near parkland, which means it has a breeze and less of a heat sink than many other outdoor locations I could choose to knit in. (It’s also near my community garden plot, thus the English muffin bag full of harvested vegetables.) While the purple color changes are more subtle (particularly at night), I’m pretty sure you can see that the orange is now turning to yellow.

The pattern calls for you to knit the same thing until you’re 80% done with your yarn. Because I’m me, I’ll eyeball that and move on to the next step when it looks like I’m getting low on magenta.

I’m still reading Spinning Silver, which is overdue. The other night, though, many of you will appreciate that one of the three main protagonists, who has recently been introduced to the magic that is writing, awakes to find that the blanket she’s begun knitting now has a vine pattern in it (two women in two different dimensions are both occupying the same space, unbeknownst to each other). She has never knit such a complicated pattern and begins to unravel it to get a sense of what’s going on. When she realizes that she’s going to have difficulty keeping track of what’s going on, she begins to read the knitting and write down the (30 row) pattern for what she’s seeing.

I’m still listening to The President Is Missing. It’s fine, but nothing special, so I wouldn’t recommend anyone bother with that one.

On September 1st, I began a re-read of Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, in honor of it being the day we all board the Hogwarts Express. I have the first three Harry Potter books in oversized illustrated versions, which means they are just at-home reading, but which also means I get to look at lots of exquisite drawings of a world I love. Plus, it has the added benefit that the first three books are the ones I have in softcover. The first book in particular is getting a little fragile, so I’m glad to have an alternative to read.

I also started Takashi Hiraide’s The Guest Cat over the weekend, because it was small enough to fit in my bag with my knitting while I was out and about. Hiraide is a poet, which doesn’t surprise me because the language is direct, but evocative. (Kudos, too, to the translator, Eric Selland.)

I’m feeling good about getting some things finished up this coming week. I’m ready to be done with the old and to move onto new projects and books.

Head over to As Kat Knits for more Unraveled posts.