It’s been a remarkable summer. I haven’t been blogging, and I don’t feel guilty at all. Why not? Perhaps because I’ve written 20,000 words in the last month and a half. It’s been fun, pure and simple.

People say writing is a torment, an agony. Not true. Sometimes, trying to give voice to what’s in your heart can give you the blues. But sometimes, you get lucky and you find a project that fills you with joy. That’s where I am right now. Writing with joy.

I’ll have to write another post to cover my summer highlights, but I’ll mention here that I traveled to Fargo for Midsummer’s Eve, mainly to help my parents say goodbye to their home. After 30 years fighting the Red River, they’ve decided to leave their house on the flood plain. No more sandbagging! At the time of this writing, the old house still stands, but it will be torn down soon, replaced by a city flood wall.

What do you call that emotion you feel when you don’t know if the dominant note is sorrow or relief? That’s how I feel about leaving the house on the river.

Goodbye, old house.

I’ve been so busy writing my new novel, there’s been very little knitting on my needles. But I did make a pretty hat a few weeks ago, when I realized my yarn stash was languishing, collecting actual dust.

The hat is Ysolda’s Rose Red, a really lovely pattern I’ve knit before. You start at the top with an I-cord twist and then work your way down.

I love this shade of Robin’s Egg Blue. It reminds me of old Ball canning jars, filled with wildflowers. For actual wildflowers, see my next post.