Knitter Bait

Yesterday I went down to the Ferry Building to go the Saturday Farmer's Market there.

Let's play spot-the-seagull

I don't usually go, because it used to be kind of a pain to get to and because you have NEVER seen a farmer's market as fru-fru as this one. OK, it can't compete will full-time indoor produce markets like inside of the Ferry Building. I'm talking temporary, put-up and pull-down markets.

I don't have evidence. Maybe NYC can beat it. But I'll just let you picture it, all the gentrified California farms you can imagine. I think all the stands there have websites, and probably facebook pages too. (I bought a pack of cosmetically challenged bell peppers. When Kurt saw it, he said 'The farms of East Palo Alto? Really?' I didn't even know there were farms in East Palo Alto, which wikipedia says had the highest homicide rate in the country in 1992, but it's gone a down a lot since then and also says is exactly due north of Palo Alto.)

That said, there is some really fantastic produce you can buy there. It's not all snobby celery.

It appears that the oranges are coming in. Also in full force: persimmons, asian pears, eggplant, and lots and lots of greens.

I went for late apples, since we've been invited to Thanksgiving at a friend's place and I am under threat unless I bring pie. While nobody had any Mutsus, my most favorite pie apple, I found a tiny stall with a variety of bizarre apples I'd never heard of and because surprises are great! I bought a bunch of weird stuff. (oh hey, here's their website)

I sat down near the Gandhi statue and knit for a while on the latest.

Yes, another doily. They don't have to fit anyone and the pattern never gets boring.

Within 2 minutes someone had stopped and was asking me about my project and details about the  needles and construction. Heh.

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Days are sort of sliding by right now and while that's not good it could be much worse. I should have goals and plans and action and change but it's hard sometimes to just work through the day and keep the the laundry going and the dishes clean. I feel bad about just taking the easy way out and drifting along, which feeling of course just makes the problem worse. Ha.

For today I'm just going to pay the bills, and anticipate Thanksgiving pie, and knit on my ridiculously useless doily, and maybe try to ditch the guilt if only temporarily by crossing off a couple of the must-be-dones off the list. The should-be-dones are still lurking, as always, but I'm not going to think about them for a little while.

Frances is taking her mid-morning nap in the sunshine.

Well, hello.

Downtown, on a park ramble a couple weekends ago

I haven't felt like I've had much to say for a while. Not that there weren't Things Happening, just that they seemed boring and inane to talk about. 

To catch things up: I never caught Mama cat. Even with tuna fish she wouldn't go near the trap. She stopped coming for a while. I hope she's all right. We moved and I stopped feeding her. The SPCA reassured me that there were lots of feral feeders around there, that if she got pregnant, then she was getting food from somewhere. I should have figured out some way of going over every day, but it all dropped out with the move. 

Thing 2. We moved, across town. The new place is wonderful. Not that the old place wasn't nice, but the new place is amazingly fantastic and I still find myself looking up and not quite believing I'm living here. We even have a backyard. With sunlight. I know, that sounds ridiculous, but look again at that picture. 

There are way more stairs and uphills at the new place than the old place. The first couple weeks my knees wanted to know WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE TO US?? We had movers (oh, so much worth the $$. Way cheaper than 3 months of physical therapy), but I still had to do a lot of lifting,  packing and unpacking. It was a toss up sometimes between whether to abuse the knees or the back. Me and my ice pack were BFFs. The knees have mostly gotten used to things and only occasionally seize up. I do have to remember to stretch my calves, oh, all the time. 

Other than the expected lifting and unpacking and packing and crap, it was about the easiest move I've ever done. I still have too much junk. A year later and I STILL HAVE TOO MUCH JUNK. argh. But now I've got more space in which to ignore it. Maybe not such a good thing.

Frances, with pile o' boxes. These have been since moved out of the front room.

The in-laws visited. We went looking for iconic views.

And I have likely lost my mind because I've made plans to visit, of all places, New York City for Christmas. Because obviously I don't get enough of the urban every day.