So we went to Hawaii. I know! Waikiki Beach is as advertised—packed solid with surfers and tourists and little kids in water wings. Frangipani blossoms drifted down from the trees and into my hair. The coral sand was soft and slippery, like walking through sesame seeds. I ate sushi and fresh pineapple and huge amounts of coconut ice cream, and Spam, and more sushi. I found a pearl in an oyster. The water of the tropical Pacific is clear and slightly bracing and it all felt so friendly and happy. It was blissful. I think if I were to stay there long enough, those scowl lines between my eyebrows that never disappear would disappear.
I didn’t even knit while I was there. Who am I??? Honestly, I don’t really know how people do that anyway—the beach is a salty, windy, sticky, messy place. It’s all I can do to keep my hat from flying away. Knitting doesn’t really seem necessary there, or actually even all that possible. Fortunately, getting to Hawaii and then home again involves two pretty long plane flights, which gave me a chance to make these mittens. They were the perfect travel project—absorbing, but small. It is 90 degrees F today and for once I don’t need any mittens, and I’m kinda missing those trade winds. Also, I need a nap. Hawaii is six time zones away and I can’t sleep when I’m supposed to and now my brain feels kind of soupy and fuddled.