The children are upstairs this very moment huddled around the telephone put on speaker, listening in on their creative writing class. We had to miss the class because our car is in the shop today.  So I had the idea they could skype in (which is such a satisfying idea to this child of The Jettsons' generation.) But for some reason, the plain old phone is working out just fine.

While they are upstairs at work in their class, I'm down here about to begin knitting and listening to Moby Dick, which is online for free, a new chapter updated daily, read for anyone who cares to listen. Its quite well done. As I listen, I work on my latest project. Which, I recently realized, is kind of a big white whale.   Its a ribbed wrap that goes on in all directions in a drapey wavy way. Maybe I'll knit an anchor into the last corner--though a harpoon might be more appropriate?

My sock lessons and scanning knitting blogs have gotten me sort of obsessed with fingering weight wool, which has several magical properties. You can knit a huge thing that never gets heavy. It smells like animals and earth and gives one a pleasant circular connected feeling in the handling. And if you use bigger needles, the fabric grows at a shockingly quick pace. Very Satisfying.