This is a Test of the Remote Blogging System

This is a test of the Remote Blogging System. This is only a test. Do not adjust your set.

I am blogging at you from the sandy beaches of Pawley Island, South Carolina. For the price of a Newcastle Brown, at a biker bar with Wi-Fi, I can blog till I pass out. But I have better things to do, namely:

Knitting in paradise, sans-cheeseburgers

Brian and Evan are having fun, too, though the photos below are somewhat ambiguous:

Brian in a pensive moment

Evan feeling apprehensive about something

The trip down was without incident. I knit a scarf (broken rib, out of my first three skeins of homespun) and slept. The kids talked. And talked. For Two Days. Dave drove. That about sums it up, really.

The scarf (sorry, not photo yet) was supposed to be for my dad, for Father's Day. But when he saw it in progress when he was visiting last week, he asked if it was supposed to be so uneven and bumpy. I suppose it is rustic, but I like it, and would hate for it to languish in a closet somewhere when some appreciative person could be wearing it lovingly. Who to gift it to?

And speaking of using words like languish inappropriately, I recently started reading Everything is Illuminated, by Jonathan Safran Foer. It's unlike anything I have ever read - insightful, amusing, delightful.

I would give a large amount of money for a tape recorder right now. There is a blowhard at the bar, pontificating about the chemistry of chili and venus flytraps and Francis Marion and his first wife and the wonders of southern hospitality. It's like an unbelieveable scene from a sitcom, of the sort that you would react to with a "no one could possibly be that tediously pompous in real life!"

Later in the week I will report back about alligators and Charleston and more beach knitting. In the meantime, behold the generousity of my favorite blogger, Rabbitch:

gifties from Rabbitch

The dishcloth is more a punishment than a gift, actually. It will be included in a large box of dishcloths to Project Scrubbie. The lovely roving is for me, me, me. My only regret is I won't be able to do anything with it until July, when I return from my trip.
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