What a weekend. No air conditioning. It failed on a Friday afternoon, so there's no hope of getting it fixed before Monday. I live in the San Fernando Valley, which is one of the hotter suburbs of LA. The heat here kills people, same as blizzards do in Minnesota. I'm particularly sensitive to heat. I'm not happy.

I have, however, completed a couple more wedges on the giant shawl; the end is within sight. A friend expressed sympathy that I'm knitting a blanket-sized project in the heat, but it's easy. I don't sit up straight when I knit; I lounge on my left side like a Roman senator. The bulk of the project is spread out on an end table to my left. I twiddle with the leading edge, and don't even have to lift the completed part except to change yarns when I finish a region. It's not bad hot-weather knitting, at all.

I dropped by the LYS Friday, shortly before the AC failed. The owners were there, but the yarn wasn't. They had been burglarized the previous weekend. The yarn hadn't been stolen, but it got messed up enough that they had to send it out to be cleaned. They hadn't been, apparently, the main target of the burglary; they are sandwiched between an office with weak locks and poor security on one side, and a pharmacy on the other. What a world. I hadn't been in the market for yarn, anyway. I haven't made a significant dent in the yarn I bought at the Summit. Since I managed to leave my notions-bag in Oregon, last trip, I bought some darning needles, sock needles, and a small crochet hook, so I don't have to be completely sock-free until I go back to Oregon next month.