hermit no more, but still cranky

For months, I'd looked forward to seeing the Gipsy Kings at Ravinia with my pal Willie. Unfortunately, Willie was unable to make it. So, I asked around to find someone else to go with me. Ravinia is such a problem in my group of friends. It is always so hard to find anyone to go with me. I was contemplating just donating the tickets back yesterday morning when my mom called and asked if she could go with me. Since she enjoyed the Brubeck concert at the beginning of the season, I readily agreed. It was really sweet how she asked.

I might as well have just stayed home. All the concert did was make me cranky. We got in some very good people watching, and even info about an excellent roll up table from Crate and Barrel, but the concert itself-- meh. They only played one of the songs that I like. Also, I was eaten alive by mosquitoes, despite liberal sprayings of bug repellent and burning a large citronella candle. I might as well have used sugar water. I shouldn't say that I'm covered, but I am full of self-pity. I have a mosquito bite on my pointer finger that caused my finger to swell to the point of numbness. Now that I can feel it again, it itches like hell. That is how I realized that I could feel it again, leading to a frantic search through the house for some sort of itch relief. I found a number of things that are not anti-itch cream, despite first appearances: a tube of neosporin, a sample size toothpaste, some weird gel I'm supposed to put up my nose but never do, and eye cream. I don't even have any meat tenderizer in the house, but somehow have a full jar of fennel flakes. Goddamn mosquitoes.

Before the unfortunate mosquito incident, I was making great progress on a new knitting project. I haven't worked on any big ones lately, just socks. This seems to be fairly common during the summer. After much scrutiny of my stash and my queue on Ravelry, I decided to cast on for a cute summer top by Debbie Bliss from the Loop book. It has an empire waist and bird's eye stitch detail in the bodice. The pattern calls for one of her yarns, but I decided to use the Sublime organic cotton that I had tucked away. I'm really pleased with it, even though there is a lot of stockinette. A lot. I've recently started listening to a new knitting podcast, Knitters Uncensored, which inspired me to muscle my way through all that boring knitting and purling. If you haven't heard the podcast, I recommend checking it out. It's put out by three expats living in Munich and just feels like hanging out with friends. Also, you can fool yourself into thinking that you are learning German, since they introduce a few words in each episode.

I caught up with an old friend living in Scotland recently. Apparently, you can do other things besides buy yarn on the internet. She refuses to believe that I am a hermit, and I think that she's right. For starters, I do not live in a romantic, tumbling down abode designed by Capability Brown. Nor do I dress in tatters, press my nose against the window pane during stately dinner parties, or beg by the city gates. I like people, which probably disqualifies me as a hermit. Or maybe I should say that I like my friends, but I'm also way too into the internet, radio, television, etc to really be a hermit. So, thanks for the reality check, Ave.