I spent most of the weekend knitting on the Bookworm vest; I've done the waste-yarn stitches to prepare for the pockets. I have about 6" left to go before I divide for the fronts and the backs.

I also finally got around to "unzipping" the crochet provisional cast-on for the Hiawatha shawl, picking up the necessary sts, and beginning the second half of the shawl. This is partly because I've begun looking at my shawl-yarn again and wanting to start something new - perhaps the Wool Peddler's Shawl out of the laceweight KnitPicks yarn, or maybe the Southwest shawl. I don't know. I also have a whole bunch of fingering weight Scottish yarn in a color Elann described as "heather" - a deep purple with flecks of green and brown. I think it's destined to be the Fir Cone Shawl; it seems particularly appropriate to use a Scots-made yarn in a color that recalls the moors for a pattern inspired by Scots lace knitting. But, the standard thing applies - I don't really want to start another lace shawl (especially one that might require the use of my Susan Bates counting board) until this one is done.

I will also admit to being somewhat inspired to go back to the lace shawl after reading Susan Gordon Lydon's (last) book, "Knitting Heaven and Earth." Actually, it's more about life and about dealing with grief and difficult medical diagnoses than it is about knitting, but she talks about knitting the Kerry Blue Shawl in there, and it made my fingers itch to go back to lace. She says some interesting things in the book about dealing with grief - I'm going to hang on to this because I know (as much as I'd like to deny it) that there will come a time, either sooner or later, where I will be grieving someone close to me. (No, no one I know has received bad diagnoses lately; it's just having lots of relatives and friends in their 70s and 80s and even some 90s makes you face up to the fact that you will lose someone, sometime.)

I do not have much experience with grieving. I tend to shed relatively few tears at first, but then perhaps months later, something will happen that will remind me of the person, and then I will really feel their absence. I don't know if it's that early on, I somehow protect myself from strong emotion and it later sneaks up on me, or if I simply need more time to process these things.

I also began a new pair of simple socks to work on while I read journal articles, when I need to give my hands a break from the cotton yarn of the Bookworm vest. I almost described it as "to keep me company" while I read journal articles, which is I guess how I've come to think of the knitting - like a loyal dog lying at my feet, or a friendly cat curled up next to me on the sofa. Knitting as pet. But really, in recent years, having some kind of simple knitting going is what has got me through the long slog that many journal articles are these days.

It was very hot this weekend, and with gas the price it is I didn't want to go anywhere anyway, so I just stayed home and worked on stuff.