Pinks, Permanence, and the Thunderbolt Kid

The photo to the left is of a scarf that I knit with some hand spun that I recently finished. I love the irregular texture of the way it knit up. I have a couple of batts leftover from a longtime ago that I was going to save for some needle felting, but will maybe try to spin. Usually by the time I have the tension set right on my wheel I've used up all my supplies to spin with!

   I've been reading the newest issue of The Permaculture Activist, a great publication that comes out 4 times a year each with a general topic, but comprised of articles written by permaculture practitioners, farmers, activists, and all the titles that you could come up with to call people! Past topics have included permaculture at home, Kids and Permaculture, preparing for peak energy descent etc.

   I'm also reading M.F.K Fisher who I recently read about in Ready Made Magazine, a mag that I mentioned earlier on a couple of posts ago. I'm reading As They Were, a sort of childhood memoir, poignant memories intermingle with prose about cooking, food, family life, and one persons experience that make up the history of our country and it's evolution over the last century, from what it once was.

   

To add one more to the list, I'm listening to a book on tape by Bill Bryson called The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid. I've been told to read Bill Bryson for some time now, and I'm glad I'm actually listening to this book, as he is the reader. That is unusual in the book on tape realm. It's his memoir of growing up as a baby boomer in the 1950's and all the humor and real life obeservation that comes with having grown up during that time period. It is fun remembering a lot of common kid memories that lots of people share no matter what time you grew up in, and also learning through his eyes about the culture of mid century America. 

     I can envision being his childhood cohort in his adventures on the ice rink, the bicycle, and the icecream truck, even though the latter never came through my neighborhood as a child...I didn't grow up in the suburbs so I got the whistling wind in the pine trees instead. And of this I am very very glad.