Spent the last few days in San Simeon with the seals. Funny thing-- when I'm sitting in my walker, almost everyone puts a hand on my shoulder as they leave. It doesn't feel contemptuous, which is a frequent interpretation, but sympathetic, like they want to say, "I appreciate how hard it is for you to do what you do, and I admire you for it," but don't want to say the words. It's okay.
The seals were busy being seals. As it is the height of the mating season, that's dramatic and amusing. There were lots of matings, and lots of battles. Since we lost so many pups in the storms a few weeks ago, the surviving pups are uncommonly fat; the bereaved moms don't lose their urge to give suck, so the pups get all the milk they want, from a variety of females.
I soon learned that it would be impossible to make Lorien's hat out of sari silk. I found, when I joined in a second ball of yarn, that I didn't have two of the same color or weight. The closest match in color was impossible in gauge, and vice versa. I gave up and bought two skeins of Summer Tweed, a blend of 70% silk and 30% cotton. The color was dull, a nondescript indigo, so I did a basketweave texture, to give it some interest. When it came time to do the crown decreases, I was delighted to find that I could incorporate the pattern into the decreases. The finished product is cute as can be, in spite of the boring yarn. Poor Lorien: it must be a great misfortune to be allergic, not only to wool, but also to cashmere and alpaca.
After finishing that hat, I cast on, I thought, for another bowler for myself, in a gorgeous teal/purple combo in "Felt Me," a wool/rayon/(I forgot what else) blend that's slightly boucle'd, and felts magnificently. It only took me an hour or so to realize that I had not half enough yarn for a bowler. I rewound the yarn, and set it aside. Tomorrow marks the start of the Knitting Olympics, anyway, so I'll have to get that project started. I'm thinking I'll make that mohair blanket I've been promising myself for the last four years.