#2 son is home. He brought a medieval siege engine with him. I once brought a dog home from college, and my parents coped pretty well, but I never brought home a trebuchet. The one at the front of this picture now resides on our patio.

#2 son and his group built it in their Trebuchet Physics class.

Here is a very medieval one snitched from a website about the movie "Timeline." It may be more authentic, but #2 son's group got points on style, since they added a cooler and an ammunition tray to their trebuchet. They also had a complex counterweight thing going with a bucket of sand. And a pineapple on a stick which they used when shouting "Let it fly!" and taunting the other groups during the Battle Royale.

#2 son points out that they will now dominate in snowball fights.

It's great to have him home.

With two thirds of Siv's sleeves finished, I have little more knitting to look forward to on this project. By Monday, I will have moved into the dread finishing stage, with all the grafting and sewing up and weaving in, and of course the moment of truth when I put on the sweater and see whether all my knitting has paid off in a sweater that I will love, or not. This means that I need a new project to begin on Monday.

I have a lot of longer-range knitting plans, including (assuming Siv turns out as well as I hope) another Siv with different stitch patterns and some felted things for Christmas gifts. But before that, I intend to use the remaining green Woolease to make some socks.

The knitting of socks has changed since I last knitted any. For one thing, it has become hugely popular. The last time I knitted a pair of socks, it was an anachronistic thing to do. No longer. Socks are now one of the most popular knitting projects, right up there with cell-phone cases.

There are also new ways to knit socks. People now begin their socks at the toe, or knit them on two circular needles. They use numerous different methods for turning the heel and shaping the toe. They add not just lace and cables, but also fur and beads and intarsia patterns. Many people knit both socks of the pair at once, on the same needles. There are also many special new sock yarns, including those that make their own color patterns as you knit and those that include a little bit of reinforcement yarn with each ball.

So there are big decisions to make.I am using up the leftover yarn from Siv, so I do not have to be tempted by Hot Sox or Crazy Feet. And after some intensive communion with my stitch-pattern books,  I have decided to use a leaf-pattern lace stitch. But the question of what needles to use is exercising my mind a bit.

On the one hand, it seems that most of the new methods are mostly intended to allow one to avoid double pointed needles. Since I have nothing against DPs, there might not be any advantage in it. On the other hand, it's hard to carry DP knitting around without having stitches slip off the needles. And it might be nice to try something new. But on the third, or fourth, or maybe just back on the first hand, it seems as though knitting on two long circular needles at once would inevitably leave you with one of them flopping about irritatingly, possibly poking unwary bystanders. I will have to visit the local yarn shop and find someone who has tried both methods and see just how much of a menace to the populace this two-needle method entails.

One thing I can say for sure. As charming as the picture of knitting needles walking around in their socks is, there is no way in the world that you could knit socks on two straight needles as pictured. No wonder the yarn is in such a tangle!

 As you can see, celebrity knitting is nothing new. Here is a picture of the lovely Rita Hayworth, knitting on the set of "You'll Never Get Rich."

We are experiencing a little mild celebrity at our house. #2 daughter's academic accomplishments were announced in the paper. And then we had the chance to see #2 son looking very excited about his group's trebuchet on the evening news. It was pretty exciting, too. They launched their basketball or whatever it was a very long way, and very high in the air as well. If that had been burning pitch, the neighboring castles would have had to watch themselves, I'll tell you. We will get to see the demonstration in person tomorrow.

Since we live in a small town, it is not unusual for one kid or another -- or even me -- to be in the paper or on the news. We have people in the family who are actually well known in the outside world, but it is not long since our local paper printed names of out of town visitors, so we probably get more ink than our illustrious relatives.

The sleeves continue. I am certain that doing them both at once is the right decision, since my counting is not exemplary. And I always knit my flat bits on a circular needle. I learned this from my grandmother, too. It's much more comfortable than having long sticks to deal with, and the stitches are less likely to slip off. And of course you can easily string two sleeves along the one circular needle. But there is a danger inherent in this method. When you get to the edge of one sleeve, you must either go across and work the other sleeve, or turn around and go back along the one you've just done. If you are not paying attention -- if, for example, you are engaged in reading about exotic locales -- it is very easy to make the wrong choice between those two courses of action, and end up a couple of rows ahead on one of the sleeves. This is what I have done. So I must now count all my rows and catch up on the shorter sleeve and check my increases...

The idea of reading Angels and Demons flew right out the window when I realized that Book Group was coming up so swiftly. This month's book is No 1 Ladies Detective Agency, a lovely collection of stories loosely tied up into a novel. It reminds me of the Nasrudin stories, the Shen Mien stories, and other such folktales of humble, clever people who outwit the arrogant and powerful.

I like Book Group for many reasons. The most obvious is the opportunity to talk about books with nice, smart ladies. I am the youngest member of the group, so I enjoy the chance to benefit from the other women's wisdom. Some of them I do not know outside of the Book Group, which keeps them mysterious. And we meet at Arsaga's on my lunch hour, so I get a walk and an uplifting break in my workday.

But one of the best things is that I get chances to read books I would not otherwise read. The Shelters of Stone I would not have read because it was a shallow and tedious book. But I did learn a number of things from it. The Student Conductor I would not have read simply because it was full of angst, and I have no patience with angst -- but it was written by a local guy, a fellow #2 daughter has worked with, and so it was worth reading if for no other reason. The Pianist I would not have read just because it was a Holocaust memoir. I feel a duty to keep up to date on unpleasant current events, and even to know some basic information on unpleasant history, but in my leisure time I avoid unpleasant things. And The Pianist is a lovely book.

It is easy to read your favorite authors, or favorite genres, and stop there. The days of going into your local bookshop and getting an exciting book recommendation from the bookseller are about gone (except where I work, of course -- I can do that for you any time, but who will do it for me?). So the Book Group is eye-opening for me.

I am halfway finished with Siv's sleeves. Sleeves are fiddly and fussy, requiring lots of counting and measuring and tinking, but they are cooler to knit than the body of a sweater. Just not so easy to knit while you read.

The young woman in this picture is probably in some balmy European place where the temperature is a pleasant 70 degrees, so she can knit while watching the lambs gambol. She is not in a Southern state in mid-July. This is the point in the year at which people begin to wonder whether it makes sense to knit in the summer at all.

Of course it does. When you start a sweater after the first frost, you may end up finishing it in the spring, with just a short time to wear it before it becomes too hot. Or you may run out of time entirely and not be able to give the mittens and slippers you made for Christmas until, say, Easter, when they will be far less welcome.

On the other hand, who wants a lap full of wool when the temperature is 100 degrees? The girl in the picture has taken some steps to make her summer knitting more pleasurable. She has taken off her shoes, rolled up her sleeves, and gotten her hair off her face. And she is working on something small. I am glad to have finished the body of Siv while it was still in the 80s, so that I now just have sleeves to do. I am also working on a quilt for #1 daughter's wedding anniversary. Since I quilt with a lap frame, I have an entire quilt in my lap whenever I work on it. I haven't touched it since Independence Day. So put aside the Lopi pullover and do cotton washcloths for a while.

In fact, the net and the newsstands are awash with cotton tank top patterns this year. I have made some of those in the past. Now I am too old to prance around in tank tops, and my daughters don't find them appealing, so this is not for me.And I am not sure that a lapful of cotton would be enjoyable in 100 degree temperatures, either.

Of course, we have the option nowadays of taking our knitting indoors and cranking up the air conditioning. I am too conservation-minded to put the thermostat above 78 degrees, so even indoors I am working on small things.With my shoes off and my hair out of my face.

I may not continue reading Angels and Demons. #2 son read it -- his entire posse read it and The Da Vinci Code -- and recommended it to me, although he warned me that it had some shocking content. My kids are very good about shielding me from shocking things. I have only read one chapter so far, and it is obviously going to be a fairly gory book, which is already a negative.  But the main problem is that it is such a Guy Book.

It is not that I don't like to read books by men. Some of my favorite authors are men. But books in which the descriptions of cars are more detailed than the descriptions of people's feelings seem directly intended for guys. You just know they are going to be filled with action -- which is fine -- and not very witty, which is not fine. It really isn't about subject matter, any more than it is about gender.  Salt (which was about salt) and The Botany of Desire (about plants), both written by men, were very witty and interesting. Indeed, there are books of the same Guy Book stripe written by women. For example, Jean Auel's The Shelters of Stone is roughly 900 pages in which the characters never think anything more interesting than "Gee, what a glamorous cavewoman!", interspersed with sex scenes and lengthy descriptions of rocks and herbs and other bits of prehistoric technology. I don't know whether that makes it a Girl Book or not. I do not normally read such books, but this was for Book Club, so I slogged through it. Book Club is not doing Angels and Demons, though. #2 son, by the way, would say that this attitude of mine is intolerably sexist. He is very concerned with human rights, and good for him, say I.

The other offensive thing I am doing is calling my kids "#1 son" and so on. When one of them questioned it, I said, "But it's from Charlie Chan," in a plonking voice. Charlie Chan was pretty offensive, of course, but I figured it was still famous enough that people would recognize the reference. He always called his oldest son "Number One Son." And, of course, so on. I think it just meant the oldest, and was not a judgement of any kind.

I don't want to use the names of living people here. I am not deeply concerned about internet privacy. I know some people who are, and all I can say is, their lives must be much more interesting than mine. But it is possible that some person who is not a member of my family might stumble onto this site and -- well, there's the thing. I have no idea what they might do. This may be why I am not more concerned than I am about internet privacy. The only things I can think of are luring my innocent children into a chat room and convincing them to meet up somewhere for an abduction, or stealing my identity for financial purposes. This is all I have read about in the news. Oh, well, I guess they could also scour my words for evidence of insider trading or sexual indiscretions in the Oval Office, but see above for "their lives must be more interesting..." In any case, I think my kids have been well-warned about abductions, and anyone stealing my identity for financial purposes will be disappointed.

Nonetheless, I will state it for the record: Number One Son and Number One Daughter are merely older than, not more precious to me than, Number Two Son and Number Two Daughter. This is a family, not an orchestra.

I am not really listening to Felix Mendelssohn and His Hawaiian Serenaders. I just thought that was funny. I am actually preparing to sing "Lift Thine Eyes" from the Felix Mendelssohn's "Elijah."

This is a trio for soprano, mezzo soprano, and alto. It is one of those pieces often described as "in a real alto range." This is always said in a warning tone of voice. The reason for this is that there is a widespread belief that there are no "real" female altos. This belief is so widespread that it is very difficult to claim to be a real alto. Women like me who can sing an octave below middle C often feel that we are about as real as altos get. After all, plenty of boy altos don't have a really good D below middle C. Yet no one suggests that they are mezzos who aren't very good in the upper register.

In fact, I don't think this happens to any other musicians. Are saxophone players questioned in a skeptical tone of voice as though they are actually tuba players pretending to be saxophone players? Hardly. The mere fact of owning an instrument and being able to get sounds to come out of it qualifies one as a player of said instrument. Female altos are suspected of deception about which instrument they own. After all, the skepticism is never about whether a singer is a good alto, only about whether she is a real one. Maybe only her hairdresser knows for sure.

In any case, I am singing the alto part. #2 daughter, who hasn't yet settled the alto/mezzo question, is singing the mezzo part. And a dear friend of ours is singing the soprano. All three of us surprise people when we sing. The soprano surprises people because she is a small, self-deprecating lady with an enormous, gorgeous voice. #2 daughter is tall, but young and skinny, so people are also surprised by the size of her voice. I am not small, skinny, or self-deprecating, so I am not sure why people are surprised by my voice. I have always said that, as performers, #1 daughter looked as though she was about to be executed, #2 daughter looked as though she was the star, and I looked as though I was supposed to be cleaning the stage and decided to sing instead. This may be the basis for the surprised reaction. On the other hand, it may be astonishment at hearing a real alto.

There turned out to be an error in the directions for Siv's sleeves, so I had a bit of frogging to do. On the other hand, it was cool this morning, with a mist over the fields, and I brought in the first cantaloupe from the garden, with Mendelssohn playing in my mind. So you won't hear me complaining.

I have called to arrange to visit #2 son on Sunday. He is at a summer program at the university, and Sunday morning is the offical visiting time. We have to call by Thursday to reserve a spot with him. However, I was lucky enough to see him walking down the street when I happened to be at the college today. He was very cool, but allowed me to hug him nonetheless.

In my father's family, it was customary to send kids away to school. My great-grandfather, whose parents were pioneers on the Louisiana-Texas border in the 1800s, went back to North Carolina for prep school. He sent his own kids to Switzerland to be educated while he did missionary work in China. My own father went to school in France and the United States while his parents lived in Switzerland. The sweet children in the picture above, including my father's mother, probably all went away from home at young ages.

I can't imagine how they did it. We sent #2 daughter off to summer programs a few times when she was in junior high and high school, and missed her very much every time. Now our twelve-year-old is away for three weeks, and I miss him. How could our ancestors have sent their children off, to another country or continent, without even having email? It's hard enough sending them off to college or even when they actually grow up.

At least this time our kid is close enough to visit. #2 daughter's travels took her to drama and music camps in other parts of the state. We dropped her off and didn't see her again for the three or six or however many weeks. #2 son is near enough that we can see him on Sunday mornings.

Here is one of #1 daughter's pictures.

I have gotten a few inches done on Siv's sleeves. I decided to do the cables, rather than punking out and doing plain stockinette.

This little pixie seems to be wearing knitted leggings. Imagine the gauge on those!

I'm still reading Out on a Limb. I saw a method for reading and knitting at the same time at a knitting blog which I have not been able to find again. This knitter props her book open on her desk at work with a stapler and a tape dispenser, and knits while reading -- presumably reading stuff for work. I don't have that kind of job, and even when I did have a desk, I would not have knitted at it. I sure would have liked to knit through staff meetings, though. I think most employers would look askance at people knitting during work time. Some of the knitting blogs even talk about people complaining at them for knitting on buses and other public places (although the Knitting Revolutionary http://monnsqueak.blogdrive.com/ points out that you have sharp sticks with which to poke their squishy bits if they do so. Not that I would ever do that...). However, I think the propping idea would work for those who like to read and knit but cannot keep their books open. Out on a Limb, since it is a mass paperback, is not big enough to accomodate a stapler, but maybe a pocketknife or some keys would do it. Something small but heavy would be the thing to look for.

I have completed the ribbing for both sleeves -- I knit them both at the same time, in hopes of increasing the chances that they will be identical when I finish. And here is where the knitting geeks have a decided advantage. They will have taken multiple measurements of their arms, graphed out the sleeve pattern, used the gauge and their measurements to figure the precise number of stitches for each measurement, and written it all down somewhere. They will count their stitches at each point. They will never have to fear that one sleeve will be in any way different from the other.

My mother, who crochets, tells the story of how she learned to do so. She was making slippersocks (we have never inquired further into what those are; I assume it is a sort of unconstructed slipper, or a heavy sock intended for use as a slipper). She made one successfully, and then had to make a whole bunch more before she ended up with two that actually matched. By the time she had done all that, she was accomplished at crochet. She is now a fiber artist who crochets elaborate scenes and sells them for large sums. Here is one of her pictures. I was not able to find a picture of one of her fiber art pieces. I own a scanner and of course have pictures of her pieces which I could scan in, but for some reason I have not yet grasped the means of making scanned pictures small enough to be digestible to xanga. Like all middle-aged people with computers, I intend to have my kids explain it to me some day.

Now, I have an aunt as well. I know that she sews, but I don't know whether she knits or not. However, I do know that -- if she did -- her sleeves would always be identical. I know this because she is the very pattern of domestic perfection. She has no dust in her house, for example. Every room of her house is beautifully decorated, and she probably made all the curtains herself. She is not fussy and nervous, though. Her lovely meals are all served after she has spent about five minutes in the kitchen. This is not because they are secretly take-out meals, but because she is so organized that she has everything done ahead, and arranged so well that she rarely has to do any work when anyone can see her. I assume that when we don't see her, she cleans things and cooks and otherwise works like a demon, but I have never seen her other than serene.

It is my goal to achieve this when I entertain. Not in my daily life, of course, because I like to set realistic goals. If you were to drop by my house at this moment, you would not only find dust on the piano legs, but shoes on the window seat as well. What can I say? But when I do the holiday meals, for example, it is my goal to do them the way my aunt does. People should come in and find a splendid meal and everything looking nice, and me relaxing and looking like a lady of leisure who has just given the servants the rest of the day off.

In reality, I am always still racing around a little, and calling one kid or another to fetch and carry something. But it is good to have goals in life. It is possible that I will achieve the goal of identical sleeves this time around.