We have reached the very busy time at work. So far it is still fun. It is, however, very busy, from the moment we open the door to quite a while after we should have closed. We are racing around like mad eejits while at the same time attempting to maintain our customary placid and helpful interest in our customers' search for the perfect frog cutout. We are the kind of place where you can normally browse for hours while listening to Mozart, secure in the knowledge that someone will always be ready to help you find the precise shade of pink you need. It is hard to maintain that atmosphere while simultaneously ringing up purchases, answering the phone, counting 60 library pockets, and answering four questions.

Note that I do not for a moment suggest that the quest for the right shade of pink and the perfect frog cutout is without merit. I think people should be allowed to be fussy and perfectionistic about approximately 20% of the details in their lives. If that means finding the ideal girl-spy novel for a niece, I'm there. Comparing the 38 different patriotic bulletin board items in the store? I'll even suggest new ways to use and combine them. Everyone gets to decide what is important for him or herself. But not everything can be equally important. Once you've been obssessive about your 20%, you need to consider being resourceful and creative about the other 80%. Otherwise, I'm going to help someone else instead.

Here is a link to a knitting blogger who takes resourcefulness and creativity further than most of us: http://www.theboogerblog.blogspot.com/  Since she had some unused men's underwear around the house, she figured out how to create a bra from it. You can find her clear directions, with photos, for turning those excess tidy whities into a nice little minimal-support sport bra. I think it would be perfect for sewing into your knitted tank tops to avoid visible bra straps. And, while single women may have to go buy fresh ones, this could be a good recycling tip for women whose husbands have switched to French boxers. Or you could merely have a laugh at the thought of it.

I have frogged and knitted on Siv's sleeves so that I am back at the point where I was last week -- that is, expecting to finish the sleeves over the weekend. We'll see.

#2 daughter and Extra Boy and I were at the farmers market, which is heavily populated with dogs, and found ourselves playing the popular game, "What kind of dog are you?"

Extra Boy? Well, I don't want to use people's actual names here, but I have to call them something. Most of the nicknames are literary allusions, private jokes, things that will allow the family to recognize them. None of the nicknames is intended to be an insult. Unless you find yourself here with the nickname Nasty Woman, you can safely assume that there is nothing bad about the nicknames I'm using. And Pinky, this means you.

But I digress. Extra Boy thought he would be a golden retriever. I could definitely see that, since we have one of those at our house. Extra Boy is laid back, good-natured, and fun. #2 daughter said she would be a Dalmatian. I figured she meant showy, glamorous, and rare. Extra Boy, who has a mystical connection to firehouses, figured she meant she hung out at firehouses.

So much of this game has to do with how the people involved think of a particular dog. When I brought it up at work, The Empress thought she herself would be a Doberman. She is a good, sweet woman, and generally mild-mannered, but she has that feisty combative streak, too. Then she thought That Man would be a bulldog. Sophia, #1 daughter's bulldog, is pictured above. Her theme song would be "Got to be Starting Something!" But of course I don't know That Man as well as The Empress does. The Poster Queen she thought would be a dachshund.

She then said that I would be a basenji. I have heard a lot about her basenji over the years. Said basenji has been reported as being difficult and untrustworthy, so I went home and googled basenjis to see whether I was being insulted or not. Basenjis, I learned, are intelligent, hardworking, and loyal. That's me. They are also described diplomatically as "not obedient dogs." Also me. They are also strange dogs. They yodel. They seem to have a different genetic makeup from ordinary dogs. You never know what they might do.

It was not an insult. But it was another reminder that my own image of myself is not the same as other people's. I continue to think of myself as a very ordinary, pleasant matron. I am surprised when others say things that suggest that I am in some way eccentric. Fortunately, no matter how much evidence I receive that other people find me unusual, I am able to continue to think of myself as a nice, ordinary woman. Maybe a cocker spaniel. Or maybe basenjis are ordinary dogs and the other ones are unusual, even though there are a lot of them.

As I was websurfing, after having done my daily post, I happened upon this site: http://www.kwicz.com/crafts.html , which has the heading "Good Use of Spare Time." The good use in question appears to be making things.

I agree with that. I have recently talked with several people whose lives appear to be more exciting than mine (cruises to Alaska, RVing through the Rockies, serving on boards of things...). My life, as you know, is mostly engaged in making things, reading, taking care of things and people, and excessive thinking.  I like it that way. I actually had an excessively exciting life in my salad days (no, I do not intend to provide any details, ever), and saved up enough thrills and chills for the foreseeable future.

But there are many points of view on what is a good use of one's time. Work, of course, and I hope we all have work that seems to us to be worthwhile and enjoyable. Mine involves taking care of things and people, reading, thinking, and occasionally making things. So Good Use of Spare Time is really the question. I have a picture here of a case in point. This is a nice bunch of herbs drying on my china cabinet.

I think that growing herbs is a good use of my time. Then harvesting and processing them to make things seems like a further good use of my spare time. But to my husband, it is a case of making a mess. Where my drying botanicals (and in fairness, I am showing you a neat and tidy example, because there are also rose petals drying on a cloth on the dog crate and bunches of stuff hanging heads-down in the pantry) look to me like the beginnings for nice holiday gifts and savory winter meals, they look to him like messy vegetable matter all over the house. Baskets of knitting, quilts waiting to be quilted, and neatly arrayed craft supplies are also features of our decor. Sheet music and musical instruments also take up a good bit of space. Did I mention the trebuchet in the back yard?

I would argue that these evidences of creativity simply show the visitor that we are an interesting family, making good use of our spare time. I understand that the most popular uses of spare time in America today are shopping and TV watching, neither of which makes as much mess as making things does, but are they really the best use of spare time? Not for me. Cruises to Alaska, maybe. When I am older and have fewer people to take care of.

Mencken is not my idea of a theologian. Marva Dawn is my idea of a theologian. But Mencken is always amusing, provocative, and interesting to read. In this book, he suggests that religion began when, having developed a higher cortex, early humans made themselves unhappy by thinking too much. They were not simply scared by lightning any more, but could imagine horrible possibilities involving future lightning, and worry about the results of past lightning, and fear that the lightning had some evil motive. In hopes of gaining some control over the situation, Mencken suggests, our early ancestors made up religion.

He writes about dour and mystical Presbyterians, Baptists whose image of God has much in common with Neptune, and "vaguely Jewish" Episcopalians. I can't help but feel that I am missing something, because of the eighty-some years since the book was written, but it is still intriguing.

#2 daughter went to something called "the Death Clock," which shows the seconds of your (estimated) lifetime ticking away. She says it makes you feel like you ought to get up and do something. Mencken might see in this an example of that human failing, excessive thinking. As a response to thoughts of mortality, though, it seems to me to be pretty good.

The last book on religion I read, Lessons of St. Francis, was divided up into chapters on Creativity, Humility, and other such good uses of time. It took the position that creating, and caring for and enjoying God's creation, were the best uses of our time. Mencken considers St. Francis an example of a mystic, that sort of person who threatens to make the priestly class unnecessary. He does not consider it likely that many of us will spend our time as St. Francis recommended.

Since I am not supposed to eat any saturated fat or simple carbohydrates, "dessert" at my house should of course be a synonym for "nice piece of fruit." However, we have, this summer, been enjoying the occasional small serving of two splendid desserts. Here are the recipes:

#2 Daughter's Chocolate Nemesis

2 sticks butter, 12 oz 70% bittersweet chocolate, 5 large eggs, 1 c sugar, 7 T water

Grease cake pan and line with parchment paper. Melt chocolate in double boiler and remove from heat. Beat eggs with 1/3 c sugar until mixture forms a ribbon. Heat remaining sugar with water over moderately low heat, stirring till syrup is clear. Pour into chocolate, stirring to combine, and then cool 10 minutes. Add chocolate and eggs slowly, beating till combined. Pour into cake pan. Set pan into water bath and bake at 300 degrees for 1 hour, till set. Cool completely before removing pan from water bath. Turn out and serve.

#1 Daughter's Fresh Fruit Indulgence

2 c ground Bordeaux cookies (or gingersnaps), 1/3 c melted butter, 2 T sugar (you can reduce sugar and butter)

8 oz fat-free cream cheese, 1/4 c sugar, juice and zest of one lemon, 1/2 c whipped cream (or nonfat plain yogurt)

assorted fruit

1/4 c apricot preserves, 1 T water (you can eliminate this step)

Grind the cookies in blender or food processor, add butter, and pat into pie plate for crust. Bake at 350 degrees for 8 minutes. Let cool. Combine cream cheese, sugar, and lemon with electric mixer. Fold in whipped cream. Spread over crust and chill for several hours. Arrange prepared fruit over filling. Combine preserves and water and brush over fruit. Garnish with fresh mint leaves and serve.

You may notice that the Nemesis is a lot of trouble, and requires a certain amount of precision, while the indulgence is more flexible and may be different each time you make it. Also, while #2 daughter insists that the Nemesis is a health food, the Indulgence fits nicely into the food pyramid. With both recipes on hand, you can have a dessert to fit your mood.

You can see a picture of both daughters at http://www.xanga.com/home.aspx?user=chanthaboune

Did I say I would have the sleeves finished by Monday? Not so! They are long enough -- too long, perhaps -- but the decreases are not nearly complete. I am going to end up with excessively long sleeves, here. I have checked the photograph in the book, and I am going to end up with the same number of pattern repeats in my cables that they show, but I am afraid that the sleeves will flop over my hands. Do I frog now? Wait and see? Pull out from the ends of the sleeves and rib sooner (and upside down)?

It may be just as well that I am not yet ready for my next project. My desire for lovely Italian yarn has me on the horns of a dilemma.

First, some background. I was very happy when the Local Yarn Shop opened last year. I am not a very good customer -- for one thing, I am not a stash builder. I just buy yarn when I'm ready to knit it. I knit one, maybe two things at a time. I only knit a couple of large projects a year, otherwise doing small things. I don't knit exclusively with high-end yarns, and therefore buy some of my yarn at the Big Discount Craft Store. And I had just done a mail-order stock-up (at Harrisville Designs, itself an independent business) shortly before they opened.

But I love having the store there. I like to go in for information and inspiration, and to admire their yarns, and to pick up a few skeins of something really nice, or a pattern or perhaps a couple of buttons. I 'm glad they're there. I'm like that with the Local Quilt Shop, too, buying fat quarters of wonderful William Morris fabric, but getting my backing and batting on sale at the Big Discount Craft Store.

Since I manage an independent store, I know about customers like me. They come in for me to tell them the names of good books on a particular subject for a particular grade level -- so they can then go buy them at the Big Discount Book Store. They buy most of their train set on the cheap at eBay and then want us to have the particular, highly specialized piece that they can't find anywhere else. They browse every week, and buy twice a year. We cannot keep our store open with customers like these. They are not supporting us, but they like having us around for the times when they need us.

When the big box stores came into our little town several years back, our independent book stores, the art supply store, and so on were driven out of business. It is no longer possible to find the special gouache you want in our town -- because the folks who valued the special gouache were willing to buy their basics at the big box stores. I try not to be a part of that problem. I shop at the farmers market, the local health food store, the local meat market.

But, with college tuition payments and the feeding of a houseful of teenagers hanging over my head, I feel that I have to be a little price conscious. I buy organic produce, but not organic butter. I buy meat from the local butcher, but get tea in bulk at Stash Tea's online clearance sales. I buy cakes and pastry from the local baker, but mostly Oroweat bread. And I spend more, to be honest, at the Big Discount Craft Store than at the local places.

I am usually fairly content with my compromises. But now I have this dilemma. Because I found an online source of Brilla which would allow me to make my sweater for $45 (including shipping) instead of $78 (including tax).

Now, I was planning to get Lion brand (preferably on sale) at a big box store, and would probably not have bought the Brilla, even though I wanted it. A woman with a large family and a modest income has no business making herself a $78 sweater. So my buying it online would not really be a loss to the LYS (Local Yarn Shop), but only to the big box store where I would have bought my mass yarn.

But it was the nice lady at the LYS who searched her store and carried that ball of Brilla over to us. I would not even have known about it if it hadn't been for her. How can I, in good conscience, spend $45 at Elann when I only spend half that when I go to my LYS?

Okay, family, here is a link to Grandma's blog!

http://www.livejournal.com/users/ozarque/

I've already said that I am not a yarn snob, and I stand by that. I knitted acrylic stuff for my kids (they grow out of it fast enough that it doesn't look horrible before they do) and I am currently knitting with Lion Brand Wool-Ease. Of course, natural Scottish wool feels better to knit with, and Harrisville looks better over the years than Lion, and the really luscious colors don't come cheap, but there is room in the world, and even in my closet, for synthetic fibers.

So, toying as I am with the thought of making another variation of Siv when this one is finished, I went over to the Big Craft Store to see what other colors of Wool-Ease were available. Hmm. Gray, natural, dark blue, and mushroom.  The lovely green I am now using is no longer made (that's why I got it all at half price). The gray is not bad -- it's a handsome charcoal -- but of course cables don't show well on dark colors. And there is limited pleasure in knitting serviceable dark colors. My grandmother was adamant about that: other people's desires to add a navy blue sweater to their wardrobes did not trump her preference for knitting in bright orange. Still, I decided I would go with the gray.

I was reasonably happy with that decision. But then #2 daughter and I went to the Local Yarn Shop and bought her some Filatura di Crosa Brilla. It is the color of -- let's see - the hair of seraphim in Renaissance paintings. It is a blend ( just like Wool-Ease) but it is cotton and rayon, and feels wonderful. And, having surreptitiously checked our respective gauges, I find that it knits up to the same gauge as Wool-Ease. The ladies at Hand Held had it in a fresh celery shade, and in a brilliant crimson...

So of course I am thinking that my next Siv should be made of Brilla. One skein of Brilla is only a little more expensive than one skein of Wool-Ease. However, Wool-Ease is 430 yards, while Brilla is 120. So -- while #2 daughter's evening wrap was an absolute bargain -- a sweater made of Brilla would be an extravagance. Especially with the cost of college tuition these days, not to mention the cost of Trebuchet Physics camp.

And yet... if I knitted very slowly, the enjoyment of working with the Brilla would last a long time...

Our garden is not at its absolute best right now. For one thing, it has been too hot and we have all been too lazy for much weeding, so the weeds are rampant. The strawberry plants are also rampant; the squashes died and had to be pulled out (I am sad about this, but the boys are very relieved) and the strawberries quickly spread to take over their space. Volunteer zinnias and our lovely pepper plants poke up from a sea of strawberries, which won't fruit till next spring. The tomatoes are nice enough, but most of the fruit on them is still green, and the melons are small yet. So our garden right now is mostly producing herbs for us. But there is one plant that is still truly pulling its weight.

It is Montezuma, the great rose bush. I planted four rose bushes under the dining room window so we could enjoy the roses at meal time. Joseph's Coat gives us a few lovely multi-colored blooms at a time. New Dawn was just planted this season and hasn't done much yet, just a few pale pink flowers. Falstaff is stingy with blooms so far, though they are gorgeously fragrant. And then there is Montezuma. He has dozens of blossoms all the time. No scent to speak of, but there they are outside the window every day for us to enjoy.

Montezuma is inclined to have dreadful mutant-looking bits, branches that become enormously thick with giant sci-fi thorns. My husband says that it is uneven watering that does this. I don't know. I just know that it is a scary effect. The leaves on those branches turn red, and sometimes the canes twist back on themselves. But I can forgive Montezuma this, because the roses are so wonderful through the window.

My roses are in a cottage garden arrangement, with herbs planted at their feet: lemon balm, peppermint, lemon verbena, lavender.Then come the peppers: cayenne, Purple Tiger, and a couple of special local varieties with unmemorable names. There are four tomato plants in a row perpendicular to the roses, with the annual herbs -- Thai basil and cilantro -- and onions next. The doomed squash were on the third side, with the melons. Now the strawberries, which had been the fourth side of the square, wash across the garden. Next year the whole annual section may be a strawberry patch.

I began the armhole decreasing on Siv yesterday while watching the rain pelt the garden. I love rain. Montezuma may just consider it uneven watering.

 We went to the farmers market this morning and bought quantities of peaches. The market is a very nice place, on the downtown square of our nice little town. Local farmers, potters, cheesemakers, bakers, and even knitters congregate there, and we can do the majority of our shopping there in the summer. 

When we lived in the country, canning was a big deal. It took up most of August. We had an enormous garden, which was intended to feed us for much of the year, so canning was a required activity. We did not have air conditioning, and it was very hot to do this, but we put up lots of lovely things. When we moved into town, we went from a huge garden to a tiny one, not even enough to supply all our produce during the growing season. We gave up canning, and it was actually a bit of a relief. But now we have spent several years eating inferior (that is, store-bought) jams and sauces, and so today we gave in and canned with bought produce.

We made salsa with ingredients mostly from our own garden, but the jam was made with peaches from a local orchard. It is cheaper and better than store-bought, and canning a few jars at a time in an air-conditioned kitchen is a far cry from canning treesful of fruit in the heat. The best of both worlds, really.

We also went to our local yarn shop, Handheld, ( http://www.handheldknitting.com/)  and bought #2 daughter some yarn with some money her grandparents gave her for the purpose on her birthday. She wants to make an evening wrap.The nice ladies showed us some beautiful ones they had made, and helped her find some Brilla in gold and Rowan Lurex Shimmer in metallic gold. She is going to make a simple rectangular piece with a dropped-stitch pattern. The ladies showed her how to sew it up to make a lovely sort of shawl-cum-poncho.

Here is the front of Siv, with the neckband still on the needles. The front and back have been grafted, but obviously no blocking has been done yet. I have completed the neckband since this picture was taken, but otherwise done nothing on the body. The sleeves are ready for decreasing. #2 daughter and I plan a companionable evening with our knitting and the British comedies.