Finding comfort in old clothes

In case you're just now joining us here in Geoknitterville, I've spent the entire month of June complaining about the heat. Now that we're into the first few days of July, I've found myself in the ironic situation of spending several days in the Great Outdoors in temps that are struggling to hit the mid-60^os. I'm very much enjoying this weather, though am lamenting the fact that I didn't bring a jacket or more than one long-sleeved shirt in addition to my old sweatshirt hoodie.

My hoodie isn't all too special; it's a plain gray, Champion-brand pull-over. It's also the oldest piece of clothing in current circulation in my closet, having owned it since my Junior year of high school (17 years ago). It's now tattered in all the right spots -- along the cuffs and edge of the hood. And I can't imagine replacing it.

Thankfully I might not need it as much for the rest of the trip, since around 2 this afternoon the sun poked through the cloud cover and the overcast sky shuffled eastward. I hadn't seen the sun since last weekend and was starting to feel deprived. Everyone around camp scattered -- Chuck and Sylvain decided to go fishing with Matt and Brian (friends from college), and their wives Heather and Kim packed up to go to the beach. Not liking either option, I decided to hop on my bike and visit our usual campsite in the wilderness area. As I sat on a stump at the campsite to type this entry, a Jeep full of teens drove by on the 2-track. One of the giggling girls sitting in the back yelled over to me, "Hey! Are you taking a shit over there or what?" Yes, folks, even after a 45-minute trek into the deep woods, I still attract hecklers.

Well, I should get going before my audience comes back to offer me some TP. If you're keeping tabs on the tweets, you may have noticed that I made the unfortunate choice to keep knitting Lisa's shawl in the dark by firelight. Normally, this isn't an issue, but somehow I mis-counted and needed to tear back about 5 rows for repair. Being a wannabe lace knitter, I didn't bother with a lifeline, so I guess I got what was coming to me. Tonight, I'll have to switch to socks after dusk.