Watching the sky get dark

"You go to my head with a smile that makes my temperature rise. Like a summer with a thousand Julys."

"You give me fever when you kiss me, fever when you hold me tight. Fever in the morning and fever all through the night."
Today is one of those Mondays that seems to have an atomic weight of 50, compared to ordinary Mondays, which have atomic weights of 30-35, and to ordinary other days, with their weights of 25, and ordinary lightweight Fridays, with their weights of 18-20.

The sky is grey and low. The cat is alternately hyperactive, needy, skittery, and purrful. I am slow and tired and on a slow angry burn about something that has little to do with current circumstances and much to do with my heavy, heavy past.

It is no wonder, I thought earlier today, that I seem to have an urgent need to be physically strong. I am perpetually carrying giant rocks around. I'd like to hurl them at something and watch them smash. Well, I am working on that.

"Here's how to be an agreeable chap: Love me and leave me in luxury's lap....When I say, 'do it,' jump to it!"

So here is the on-the-train project I've been working on in bits and drabs (that phrase being my own concoction compounded of dribs and drabs and bits and bobs, methinks). The beautiful Verde Esperanza crack (Malabrigo) wanted to be a drop-stitch scarf when it grew up (it told me so), and I am liking the result so much that I am not even going to weave anything into the dropped stitches a la Bob + Weave, as I'd originally planned. It reminds me of waves, and I am way into waves lately.

"And if I fell into the spell of your call, I'd be caught in the undertow."

Sure do wish y'all could hear what I hear sometimes. Today it is Shirley Horn, giving a little maniacal laugh at the end of that song.

PS. In case you are wondering, those pale weights holding down the edges of the scarf so you can see the dropped stitch portions are two of three beachrocks that my neighbor brought me a while ago as a thank you for looking after her cats.