Well, as much as I wanted the "Scintillante" left over from the shawl I made for my mother to be a pair of gloves for me, I think I'm going to use it for gloves for her, as a Christmas present.

I found the balls of Scintillante again that were left from the shawl.

I also found out (via my dad) that her dress winter coat is red. My dress winter coat is camel-hair, so black wouldn't look nearly so good with it.

It seems logical to me, as I had originally bought and hoarded this yarn for a shawl for me, and then wound up making it for my mother. Why shouldn't I use the remnants to make gloves for her?

I do need to finish a thing or two before I begin the gloves. I pulled out the Artful Yarns' "Cinema" and "Portrait" scarf again and worked on it some more.

I also have to admit: I began a Multidirectional Diagonal Scarf out of some Reynolds' Odyssey I bought last year. (It took me two tries, and two unknittings, before I figured out that the pattern was shortrowed and was telling me to TURN after I did the decrease. I kept wondering if my count was off and why the scarf was taking on such an odd shape. D'oh.). Not sure of the eventual destination of this one; possibly, it'll be a gift for someone. Possibly my mom. Or I might make a red or black scarf for her (I have Wool-Ease in stash for scarves) in one of the stitch-patterned reversible scarf patterns out there.

I have to admit that I like doing scarves. Not the plain, all garter stitch sort, but the kind where you have to think a bit (at least at first) about the pattern, and then once you memorize it you may not need to look at the instructions again but you do need to count and be a bit mindful of what's going on. There's something restful about it - you don't need to worry about "knit until the piece measures 13", then decrease for armholes," fit isn't an issue. Even the toughness of the yarn isn't an issue - something that would pill as a sweater will work for a scarf. So you can use all the nice soft lovely things that you'd never make a harder-wearing garment out of for a scarf.

And somehow, it feels right starting in on scarves as fall seems to be coming on.

In the past week, there's been a definite change: the sunlight is beginning to take on that golden quality it does in the fall, which is such a relief after the white-hotness of it all summer long. And when I step out of the house at 7 in the morning, instead of getting hit with a wall of hot, wet air (like getting slapped with a stale pool towel), there's an incipient crispness in the air, a hint that someday soon I will begin needing a sweater or light jacket again.

I love fall; it's my favorite season. For me, it carries with it many positive associations: the start of school, the cooler weather, chilly nights to spend curled up on the sofa under a quilt with a book, the fall holidays - Hallowe'en, and Thanksgiving, and the Advent season, apples back in the stores, the harvest, the changing leaves. My family always did a lot of things in the fall, fun things, as I remember - seeking out farmer's markets or fall festivals and going out into the country on weekends, and even as a kid I loved to hang out at antique fairs or model farms. And so, as an adult, I see fall coming on, and my heart warms with all the happy times spent looking for just the right pumpkin or learning how apple cider was made, even though I may not consciously think of those times.

More scarf patterns, if you're inspired to start some fall scarves:

Catherine Wingate's wonderful reversible scarf patterns

Another reversible scarf (warning: About.com site. Many annoying pop-up and "booger" ads)

Esther Bozak's thermal scarf

Esther Bozak's article on reversible scarves; with ideas

Rib and Eyelet scarf

You will note that all of these are "typical yarn" (worsted-spun, singles, or some other kind of plied fiber) scarves; none are really novelty-yarn patterns. Because another thing that happens when I start dreaming of fall and scarves and typical fall outerwear, is that the first thing I think of are nice wooly scarves that look like oldtime handknits. Like something Laura Ingalls Wilder would recognize. The techno-railroad-furry stuff is very nice, but it's not part of my fall imagery the way a good plain old wool, perhaps dyed in a color that mimics (or actually IS) a natural plant dye.