All it takes is about two days of hot weather—and by the way, “hot” equals about 85 degrees F here in the North Country, and I know that makes me a complete wimp, but I guess my blood is thick or something—and I become a shrieking harridan. Also, the lazy kicks in and everything, everything is so much work. You know what I mean? Just hauling the laundry around seems like it takes all I have. I have to take little breaks, just to lie on the floor, panting, in front of the fan. So, when the air turned a little bit crisp yesterday, and the sun came down through the stormy-looking clouds, looking so dramatic, like an inspirational poster from the 70s, my head suddenly cleared and I felt awake and all the fabric in the cupboard looked good together, and I was moved to make another quilt. Which is silly, since I haven’t even made this one yet, but you know how it is. The startitis is fully upon me. I wanna be starting something.
This is my favorite palette right now. Plum, mustard, dove gray, peony, russet, navy, sage. Muted and dusty, like an illustration in an antique book. Faded.
Cool weather also inspires my knitting, and even as I continue to knit umpteen hats, I started another Chevron Skirt, in oatmeal, browns, and grays, and shorter this time, which will display my aging knees, but that can’t be helped.
I think of wearing this with tall brown boots and a serious dark brown turtleneck, carrying a very important-looking stack of research papers and striding across a leafy campus, on my way to a lecture, my long blond hair in a strict bun, and leaving behind me the subtlest scent of Arpege. School dreams.
I’m in that lull right now, between mad bursts of getting ready for something, or cleaning up after something else, and it leaves room for planning new projects. Quilts, scarves, sweaters, hats. I feel it all coming.