There are times when everything is betwixt and between. This is one of them.
The weather can’t quite make up its mind: should it stay spring or morph into raging summer? My regular schedule fell by the wayside somewhere along the line, and I have no idea where to even begin trying to find. Even my knitting is off: I finished all my works in progress, and now am trying to figure out what to get started next. The difficulty is not lack of options, but rather a profusion.
So while I’m feeling rather out of sorts about everything, I might as well be weirded out by living in Arizona.
I believe this feeling was brought on by a Miniature Tigers concert last week. They’re originally from Arizona, and you can hear it in their lyrics: femme fatales slam arcadia doors, not sliders, and a dream house includes a lemon tree. The list of states where you can expect to find a lemon tree already planted in your yard is pretty short.
Arizona is not a place I expected to live for so long. Usually, it’s all become so familiar that I forget to wonder at what an unusual place it is. Perfectly-gridded streets interrupted by little mountain-islands, summers so hot you estivate, and those arcadia doors and lemon trees.
And speaking of odd, the critter you see above was knitted out of leftover blanket yarn in two days for a one-year-old’s birthday. The pattern is Big Pink Pig from Purl Soho, if you know a one-year-old in need of some quirky distraction.
Where is your knitting at as spring makes up its mind?