See the circle of cable sticking out because there isn't enough knitting to make it all the way around the needle? Now, this may make you think of the "Magic Loop" technique, but chez Fibermom, it is called "too lazy to switch to dpns."

I am wondering whether it could also be called "Your hat is going to be too small." I have googled around in search of someone else who has made this hat, but have not found many. One said it was more like a cabled baseball cap than a newsboy cap, and that is not at all the effect I want.

Now, you can find any number of pictures and descriptions of Rogue, Clapotis, Birch, or Kiri. Why not Headline News? This is a pattern from SnB Nation, for heaven's sake. I thought all hip knitters were required to make all the patterns from that series.

You know what would be handy? If a website could be set up for each knitting book, with a gallery of annotated pictures.

Somebody go do that, okay?

In the class on Methodism we learned the  Methodist slogan: "In essentials firmness, in all else liberty." The Presbyterian one is "God is sovereign." That and "Let all things be done decently and in order" about covers the Presbyterian approach; liberty isn't on the map.

Do all denominations have slogans? I don't know. A good slogan can be handy. That Man and I once came up with the idea of establishing state slogans as greetings. Each of us could greet others with our state's motto. Since I grew up in California, I could greet people with "Eureka!" which is a nice chipper greeting. But I was born in Florida, which uses, "In God we trust." Nothing objectionable to me in that, but it does remind you of money, doesn't it?

"The people rule!" is not bad, but "The life of the land is perpetuated in righteousness" could be a bit much first thing in the morning. "Thus always to tyrants" or "Live free and die" sound a bit combative, and "I direct" sounds mad. New York has a good one, though: "Excelsior!" That's as good as "Eureka."

I cast on for Headline News from SnB Nation, in cream-colored Wool-Ease, with number 4 needles. Then I actually looked at the pattern, and had to shift to #3 needles. Anyway, I added a strand of elastic thread, as the pattern suggests, and am ribbing away. It is impossible to tell, at this point, what effect this will have. However, I had been contemplating adding a bit of elastic thread to Brooklyn's ribbing, so I am glad to have this quick method of checking how that might work. I'll let you know. The great thing with this is that the elastic thread does not show in the cream. Had I been using the red cotton, I think it would have been pretty obvious.

Choir last night, as well as the first meeting of the class on Methodism. Most of the people in the class were visitors to the church, but one had been a member for five years. "I'm not sure that I'm a Methodist any more," she said. "Do you have a quiz we can take?" I asked. I got a laugh, too.

The choristers were talking at one point about a former choir director -- someone from years ago, whose name they could not even remember. He was in the music department at the university, they said. He was very focused on the product, and, as people kept reiterating in a "let's be fair" kind of voice, "The choir sounded really good." But he had achieved that by being a slave driver, by auditioning, and by salting the group with his voice students. Members of the church had dropped out of the choir, it had ceased to be a real part of worship, and at last that director had left.

This is much like what was happening at my old church. In fact, a friend from that church told me recently that the music there had become "too much of a one-man band." This is sad. But church music ought to grow out of the worship experience. It shouldn't be imported and imposed upon the church. Even if it would, for a time, sound better.

The director allowed as how music was only math -- the part on the page, that is.

After choir, I came home and hung out with my menfolks while they watched "Spiderman." Then I went to bed with a book, only to be joined by my sons, who wanted to whine about how much they hated, loathed, and detested school. #1 son suggested that he could drop out and work full time instead of finishing school. "The Mendelian ratio," he said. "I could be the one who dropped out of school." I reminded him that he had had the option of homeschooling or of attending the charter school, and had chosen to stay at the high school. He whined some more. "You like school," I said to #2 son, who was joining in. "You get to see all your buds." "I don't like the academic part," he explained.

We do not expect adults to do things they dislike very often. When C said that she had quit the choir while the disliked director was there, we all agreed that she had been right to do so. "I sing for fun," she said, "and if it's not fun, I'm not going to do it." This is true for me, too. If my class were not fun, I wouldn't go. Even work -- while none of us feels like going to work every single day, we tend to feel that someone who actually dislikes his or her job has just made a mistake and should rectify it.

The boys eventually got tired of whining about school, though it took much longer than I would have thought possible. They quit, I think, mostly because they got involved in a pillow fight and I made them leave. #2 son came back after a while to read his latest Terry Pratchett.At least he gets to choose his books.

Partygirl and I went off to class last night. I had not seen her all summer. We always intend to get together during the summer, but then we never do, so we had a lot of catching up to do. She is a Delta girl, too (geographically, I mean; I'm not talking about sororities) so she had a lot to say about the situation with Hurricane Katrina. With one thing and another, it was quite late by the time I got home. Late for me, anyway.

She and I are not in the same small group -- I think they try to keep good friends apart for the sake of keeping the discussions general. My small group is an interesting one, though. La Grecque, who was in my group last year, is there, and I am very glad of it. Her comments are always very deep and well-thought-out. There are a couple of my customers, as well, both charming women. There are two ladies from Syracuse who nearly fell upon each other with glad cries upon discovering that they were both from Syracuse.

"Never mind, honey," said an older lady, "you're here now." It seemed to be intended to be comforting. This lady is a talker, and I could just hear the group leader thinking about how she is going to have to squelch her if there is to be any opportunity for anyone else to speak in this group.

We introduced ourselves. I was the last, so I had plenty of time as we went around the circle to determine what the custom of introduction was. Everyone listed her children, essentially. A few told us where they came from, La Grecque being single told us her job, but mostly everyone just listed her kids. That's what I did, too. Avoiding excessive self-disclosure, you know. I try really hard not to talk too much in these groups. Partygirl and I always talk about it all the way home, so it isn't as though I don't get enough of a chance to express myself.

That is odd, though, isn't it? Here we were, 15 women from say 30 to 60, all with different jobs and life experiences and backgrounds, and all we found to say about ourselves was the number of children we had? Some said they were married, but most of us just let that be assumed. Were they all following the crowd, either sheep-like or, like me, strategically to fit in? We later had the excellent lecturer say to us "every man, including you" -- a tolerably odd thing to say to a large roomful of women. This may just be a sexist group. But I am open-minded, and can hang out with sexists without being driven to try to change their minds. I just don't like to see it among women.

Partygirl got in mild trouble in her class for saying something which revealed her church membership. This class has about 300 women in it, from every religious tradition, including the occasional backsliding atheist, and one of the rules is that we don't talk about our own churches. Partygirl made a casual remark which included "when you look up at the crucifix and see the body of Jesus" -- obviously, they did more in her group than list their children. Anyway, it was clear that she was a Catholic, because Protestants don't have the body of Jesus on the cross.

I don't think she earned a rebuke with that, though. How is she supposed to know? A person who is interested in comparative religion can often tell from people's turns of phrase, or what hymns they know, which flavor of religion they are accustomed to. But if you haven't thought about it before, I don't think you would know this.

Brooklyn is on its raglan decreases. I got quite a bit done during the merchants' meeting yesterday morning. I am still contemplating the hat color question -- and I greatly appreciate your opinions on the question. Both would be nice, wouldn't they? I could do one of each. If I hurry.

At work, we are looking at new toys for the fourth quarter. So when Games Quarterly arrived, we eagerly searched for the most exciting, fun, and educational games being prepared for the new season.

Were we amazed to find a round-up of games for teaching economics! "Economics," the text assured us, "is one of the most important disciplines...those who can critically think on a microeconomic and macroeconomic level tend to have a higer standard of living." Now that we have established the educational value, we look at the lessons the games are providing. Here are a few under the heading "Resource Management":

Dos Rios has players "moving farm workers, dislocating other opponents' farm workers, building dams with lumber and redirecting the river, fending off bandits, and earning money harvesting wheat, corn, or tobacco."

Once you have tampered with nature and humanity and harvested that tobacco, kids, you can move on to beer. Goldbrau can be won by being the player to "earn the most money after three paydays by expanding the beer garden."

Empyrean, Inc. is not messing around with little liquor and tobacco stuff. In this game, you are out to corner the market "by engaging in commerce, taxation, claiming planets..." Just a normal day in an economist's life.

High Society doesn't bother about including work in the economics equation. Instead, "accumulate the most status points and money bidding on luxuries, recognition, and misfortune."

Let's admit that this may be an example of bad marketing -- these games do not appear to be intended either for children or for the teaching of economics. A certain satirical slant seems to be present at the games' websites, though not in the descriptions in the trade journal. The folks at Games Quarterly may also just be more honest than the manufacturers.

Seriously, if you ever want economics games, you might consider Mayfair Games's Catan series. Kids of Catan and Settlers of Catan are both listed in the "Resource Management" group, and are based on building cities. I have not seen these games, but it doesn't sound as though despoliation and exploitation are actually required of players. Made for Trade is another, more overtly educational game. And Noom and Raj Start a Business is a book and bank combination.

None of these products addresses merchant meetings, which is where I am headed at 8:00 a.m. We will be planning our Hallowe'en event for the center where our store lives. So I will not be going to the gym today. Then I'm off to work, and 30 minutes after the store closes, Partygirl will be picking me up for our class. I think I had better get dinner into the Crockpot before I leave.

In an effort to follow the HGP, I am deciding on the yarn for a gift for #1 daughter. I don't think she reads this blog, so I will tell you that it is this item.

Now, the big question. Do I make it in bright red Plymouth Stone cotton? Or do I make it to match the DNA scarf which I gave her last year? I thought I had made her a hat last year, but cannot quite recall. I was counting on the blog to help me out, and it shows three DNA scarves and... two matching hats. If she didn't get a hat, she needs one, right? But if she did -- well, then she might need a bright red cotton hat.

I can get gauge with either one. Wooly or cotton? Neutral or red? Opinions, anyone?

I am not going to the Master Chorale tonight. My kids objected, my husband objected, it would be a terrible rush and I couldn't make dinner, it would mean three nights out every week. This is not really something I can do with kids still at home, and it will not be so many years till they are all grown up. It makes me a little sad, though.

Sunday was another gorgeous summer day. You might think that we would have our gorgeous summer days in July or August, when people are expecting them, but no, we prefer to have them in September, when perhaps there is less of a crowd. July and August we reserve for hellish heat and humidity which saps all the strength from the inhabitants.

The ladies in Sunday school (most of whom are on the other side of 60, many on the other side of 70 or 80) were advocating taking a butcher knife to child molesters. I was laughing helplessly (though quietly, I hope) at the incongruity of it all. Not only the ladies in their print dresses matter-of-factly suggesting this, but the fact that it was in response to a lesson on the love of God.

Later, in the sermon, the pastor spoke fervently about the love of God toward "villains," including Nazi war criminals and even child molesters, and the grace of God that allows us to forgive evil while continuing of course to fight against it. I expect the ladies were chastened. On the other hand, the pastor also said, referring to a new family from New York, that there would be Yankees in Heaven, so we might as well get used to it. I don't know. These Methodists are a wild and crazy bunch.

In the afternoon, I went back for the Methodist Women's tea. We sat at beautifully arranged tables and were served tea and cucumber sandwiches and little cakes while watching a presentation on a recent mission trip to Tanzania.

I have never been to a function of this sort before, though they do figure prominently in the old murder mysteries I read. The presentation was quite fascinating, really. The women doing it gave us a lot of detail about the way the people they visited worshipped, studied, worked, and cooked and cleaned. These things are so often left out of presentations given in other settings, and they are quite interesting.

I also enjoyed talking with the ladies, and got up to the raglan shaping on Brooklyn. I behaved myself fairly well, in fact, except for, when C. told us her age, saying, "I thought you were my age..." and then, realizing what I had done, I went on, trying to make it better, "and actually I'm quite a bit younger than you." At which point, seeing that I could not make things better and might make it worse, I shut up and bought some Tanzanian handwork for Christmas gifts for my daughters.

The HGP wants us to organize our handmade holiday gifts. Specifically, we are to buy all the needed materials, and sort them into plastic bags. If you are making socks for your mother-in-law, you buy her yarn and put it with the pattern into a Zip-Lock bag labeled "Doris" or whatever her name is.

This sounds reasonable. And the whole point of the HGP, the reason it works well for me, is its automatic nature. If you just do what they say, you can be ready for the holidays without much effort or excessive thought.

But I am not succeeding with this task. I did calculate the number of yards of yarn I would need, and I am putting together an order for Knitpicks (Ruby Plaid gave me a good review of their yarns).

But there is a little bit of that old Peanuts cartoon here. Lucy is writing on the board "I will not talk in class." She has written it over and over all the way down the board, and then she turns to us and says, "On the other hand, who knows what I might do?"

I feel a little bit like that with my holiday knitting. I have about twelve specific projects planned. Will I really be able to finish all twelve? And, beyond that, if I put 220 yards of green wool into the bag with the BAWK pattern, what is to say that I won't later decide to make some of the cables in cream on the green? Wouldn't that be nice? Or I might decide to do some mosaic knitting. And I have been thinking a lot about ribbons lately. Who knows?

I guess that some tentative organization would still be a good thing.

Perhaps you are beginning to think about what you will knit for the people you love. Here are some links to free patterns for things that seem to me to be likely choices:

Pink Lady hat
Fair Isle hat
London beanie

Noah's Ark toy 
Soccer monkey toy 
monkey's soccer kit ("kit" meaning "clothing" to us in Hamburger-a-go-go-land)

Celtic knot cushions
Tawashi set
Vintage tea cosy

Knitted bracelet
Knitted necklace

Cable-cuff mittens
Snowdrift mittens

Dulann scarf
Seaweed and Shells stole

Cabled socks
Pretty Comfy sock
Wyvvern sock

Felted slippers

Rose Trellis Shawl
Vintage lace dressing gown

The Brenda Midnight mystery series, through which I am reading my way, combines workmanlike plots, snappy repartee, and textiles. A pleasure to read.

And Saturday was a perfect summer day. It was hot, but at a level which -- assuming the presence of a powerful fan and plenty of iced tea, combined with very little movement -- could also be a pleasure. My husband and I took #1 son to get a cell phone. He has been a working man for about a month, and had saved up the spondulicks for the purpose. He drove us  to the local Center for Purchase of Electronic Goods, and picked out a deep blue and silver model with a camera and polyphonic ring tones.

Following this, and the usual grocery and so forth, we came home so that #1 son could activate his new fashion accessory and I could do some cooking and baking and cleaning and laundry and so forth. Following that, I armed myself with iced tea and stationed myself where both the breeze and the fan could reach me, and read and knitted.

Here is Brooklyn's sleeve, with the increases completed. It is attaining gorilla length, but I am blindly following the pattern. Denim, they say, shrinks in length though not in width, so all the pieces have to made rather long. And of course it is the style to have really long sleeves right now anyway. So I'm heading for 57.5 centimeters before doing the raglan shaping, excessive though that seems.

I am glad to be through with the increases, though, because the color changes every row and cabling every fourth row (must find the cabling needle...) and the increases every eighth and then tenth row -- well, it was slightly too much counting for a summer afternoon. At least for a summer afternoon with a novel propped upon under the knitting. The sleeve looks nice and relaxed out on the porch, though, doesn't it?

Even back in the days when jewel thieves were apprehended in my apartment, I always enjoyed a quiet afternoon reading and knitting. By the pool, under the plum trees, any pleasant spot will do. It is a meditative space in the rush of daily life.

Ah, yes. The jewel thief. There was actually only one. I had a roommate at the time, the kind you find on a board at the student Housing Office, so I knew nothing about him. And one day a man came to visit him. He appeared to be called "John," and he dyed his hair shortly after his arrival. Not a common thing at the time, a man dying his hair. My girlfriends and I saw the box of Miss Clairol in the wastebasket and wondered a little about this guy. He seemed so tense.

So that evening, we were all hanging around playing music when a hammering came at the door. My roomie got up and opened the door and two enormous men burst in, shouting "POLICE!" They might even have started the shouting at the same time as the hammering. The details were hard to sort out in the uproar.

"John" ran, the men caught him easily, a lot of shouting and threatening took place, and the roomie eventually admitted the real name of his friend, who was taken away in handcuffs.

Now don't be thinking that I was in those days the same calm and competent person I am now. I had long Pre-Raphaelite curls and scanty clothing in those days, and it seems to me that my lines throughout the scene were, "They can't do that, can they? Can they just come in here and do this?"  Repeated foolishly over and over. I mean, I knew that "John" seemed a little odd, but so did my roommate, after all, and the police officers (I guess they really were police officers, though they did not have uniforms) were very big and threatening.

And that was it. I never found out anything more about "John"s crimes or his fate. The main thing I learned -- apart from the fact that police officers do not apparently have to introduce themselves politely and show their badges -- was that they actually use expressions like "that little caper."

Well, that was a bit of an adventure, but not really very pleasurable at the time, or interesting after the fact, or useful in the long run. Between the two, I would probably prefer an evening with my knitting and a good book.

For those of us who are doing the HGP, this is the week for thoroughly cleaning our foyers. My foyer is about three feet square, so this will not take me very long. However, it is also the week for buying and organizing the materials for our holiday gift making. We will also put another meal in the freezer, and the first batch of "holiday goodies." The principle here is that by the time you get busy with recitals and parties, there will be a freezer full of stuff. You will not be the one bringing to KFC to the potluck which begins 15 minutes after you get off work. You will be able to put together that cookie box for the UPS lady with ease as she drives up. You will be able to take a casserole to your friend who is going mad because she did not do anything ahead of time.

I realize that some of you (like Pokey, for example) have no need to prepare for the holidays, and will not be cleaning your foyer or putting a nice container of beef stew into the freezer. Should you have to do without a holiday countdown? Heaven forfend!

X-entertainment's Hallowe'en countdown begins on Monday. This is not at all like the HGP. X-E is not going to give you pumpkin-carving patterns or costume safety tips. He is not going to tell you which day is the one for writing out your guest list and when to polish your silver. Instead, he will tell you about the available horror movies, the history of Kool-Aid, and the most disgusting prepared foods. But I found the countdown quite fascinating last year. Horrid fascination, perhaps, but still... X-E's description of making Hallowe'en cookies is even now crystal clear in my memory. And there are product reviews, of things you and I would never consider buying. I don't even go into the kinds of stores where you can buy those things.

So pick your countdown. And watch out for jewel thieves.

Here it is, a picture initially perhaps confusing but hardly alarming. A couple of worms -- one transparent and thus nearly invisible -- next to the same old boring bit of knitting...

But wait? Is that -- a ladder?

It is. Because the worms you see are not worms. They are the broken ends of my knitting needle. One of my ancient needles actually broke while I was knitting. And when I disentangled all the stitches from it and replaced them on a newer size 3 circular, I dropped one. And by the time I got back to it in the course of knitting, it had laddered.

Fear not. I picked the stitch up with a crochet hook -- always better if you have a ladder rather than just a dropped stitch -- and put it onto a safety pin to hold it till I got back to it in the course of knitting, and now all is well.

More or less. My needle is still broken. It was one of those with aluminum tips and a nylon cable, and the tip simply removed itself from the cable. It is a wonder that I have not had this happen before. Some of my knitting needles pre-date plastic, and most of them are old enough to class as antiques.  But I have never had a needle break before, so I just kept knitting along, wondering what was wrong. I expect you can imagine what happens if you keep knitting with a tip that is not actually attached to a cable. You would probably have caught on before I did.

Brooklyn's sleeve is now on another #3 needle. One advantage of having lots of needles is that a little contretemps like this is just little -- I didn't have to put it on something else till I could get to the knitting shop or anything. This new needle is a modern one, made all in one piece. I bought it last year for reasons that now escape me. I haven't used it much, so it is stiff and doesn't respond as well as the ones that have been knitting for 60 or 70- years.

Yes, my knitting needles are mostly much older than I am, and have been knitting for considerably longer.

Anyway, I would not normally switch needles in the middle of a project, for fear that some little difference would affect my gauge. But since I have switched perforce, I will be interested to see whether it actually makes any difference to the experience, if not the gauge.

The Princess and I were reading this book, brainstorming ways to make funny rubber gloves such as they have in its pages. The Princess has actually seen the TV program this book is based on, and so was also reading out the lines in appropriate voices, when we came upon this statement:

"Sponges are slovenly."

Now, Peg Bracken said that sponges were deceitful, giving a spurious air of freshness even though they would soon be as dispirited looking as a dishcloth, but I have never heard anyone say that sponges were slovenly. I use sponges myself.

Cotton dishcloths, the book says, are what you should have.

I have made a number of cotton and linen facecloths, because they are far and away superior to the store-bought variety, but I have never made a dishcloth. However, if you agree that sponges are slovenly and want to make some dischcloths, then you have chosen an item with a rich treasure trove of free patterns on the web. Here are some nice ones:

Shaker rib
Chinese Waves
Seed stitch
Moss rib
Damn Yankees
Knitting Fiend
Lozenge
Dog
Muguets

And a Large Collection of Other Links.

Essentially, as you will have noticed from looking at these links if you did not know it before, a dishcloth comes down to a square with a border. The border should generally be seed stitch for firmness, although there are other, more complicated options. So if there are any stitches in your stitch compendium that you've been wanting to try, here's an opportunity. Just be sure to work in seed stitch for the first 5-8 rows and then the first 5-8 stitches of each row thereafter. Finish it off with a mathcing muber of seed stitch rows and crochet yourself a hanging loop before you cut your yarn.

The ladies in the book recommend an open weave. But are they right about the nastiness of sponges? Here is a link that suggests that they may be right. And here, a quote:

"The sponge harbors some of the most pathenogenic germs one can find in anybody's home," [the expert] said. "Food can carry organisms like shigella, listeria, E. coli, salmonella and hepatitis A. The sponge picks up germs and smears them on whatever it wipes."

Experts say that you should soak your sponge in bleach and use a different sponge for each task, and certainly not keep them around for a month before replacing them -- never mind. If nothing else, I happen to know that the production of chlorine puts so many toxic chemicals into our environment that bleach should be saved for extreme situations, like hospitals. A cotton dishcloth that can be washed in the washing machine may be in my future. Oh, and if you are serious about germs, nuke it in your microwave for two minutes when it is clean but still damp.

Now you know.

Brooklyn's sleeve continues. Now, I know that I get ever so slightly peeved when I visit a knitting blog and see a cool piece of knitting, and then have to search through the archives to find out what it is. So here are the details: Brooklyn from Denim People, being knitted in Den-M-Nit on #3 needles. This is the sleeve. I am making this jacket for #1 son. A couple of other kids have said that they want one, too, and I had been thinking I would make more if it turns out well, but #1 son is opposed to that idea. He wants his to be unique in the household, if he cannot have it unique in the world.

All those warning about knitting with denim? Still nothing going on here -- no blue hands, no sore wrists, nothing. This causes me to wonder whether maybe I am doing this wrong and the finished object will turn out badly.

The new Knitty is up. Cables and lace as far as the eye can see. Sweaters, socks, a shrug, a toy, a hat -- check it out.

Brooklyn continues. I have photographed the sleeve the other way around to distract you from the fact that it looks just about the same as before. I really like the little white cables set into the blue. This is such a nice detail-- you might like to add it to some plain sweater or sock or something that you are making yourself. It's just a matter of doing the cables in one color and the ground in another, but I have never seen it done before, and would not have thought of it myself. This is why we need designers.

These little cables, plus the shaping of the sleeve, have almost lifted Brooklyn out of the zombie category, though I can still read while working on it. Bluefelicia has taken issue with the supposed technique of cabling without a cabling needle. She can't see why it is so popular. I can. It isn't a technique at all, is it? It's just a matter of being too lazy to get up and find the cabling needle. And keep track of it after you use it. It's like the "technique" of not boiling your pasta before putting it into the sauce -- the results aren't as good, but there are days when you'd like to skip a step. That's all.

Katrina, the revelations of how much of the tragedy was avoidable, and high prices at the gas pumps have all led to a lot of discussion of environmentalism in my neighborhood.

Perhaps you have been thinking that you would like to try being more environmentally responsible, but are concerned about looking like some kind of liberal tree-hugger to your friends. Not to worry. Take comfort in these words from Chase Me Ladies:

"There’s nothing “commie” about environmentalism. Communists like pollution; they have a soot fetish. In Communist murals there is a great love of smoke and factories, whereas people like Peter Hitchens, Roger Scruton and Hitler are conservationists. "

Seriously, though, there are a lot of environmentally sound things that we know we ought to do, but they are more trouble than the less-sound alternatives. It's like getting up to find the cabling needle -- the results are better, but sometimes it seems like too much trouble.

 #1 son says it won't matter if we make the extra effort, because as long as most people refuse to do it, it won't matter whether we do it or not.

But we got ourselves into the mess with Katrina just as surely as we got ourselves (or the people living at that time got themselves) into the Dust Bowl. Every little bit adds up, and perhaps we can make a difference with all our little bits.

The Consumer's Guide to Effective Environmental Choices sorts out what changes will actually make a significant difference, and are therefore worth doing. If you feel overwhelmed by the pros and cons of various choices, or are willing to do just one thing and want to make sure it's a significant one, check this book out.