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Marcel and his new friend, the handsome aristocrat Robert Saint-Loup, have dinner at the Rivebelle restaurant. Young women are seated near their table. Marcel is ever the voyeur. The year is 1890; it is Summer on the coast of Normandy.
...you could hear them whispering: “That’s young Saint-Loup. It seems he’s still quite gone on that girl of his. Got it bad, he has. What a dear boy! I think he’s just wonderful; and what style! Some girls do have all the luck, don’t they? And he’s so nice in every way. I saw a lot of him when I was with d’Orléans. They were quite inseparable, those two. He was going the pace, that time. But he’s given it all up now, she can’t complain. She’s had a good run of luck, that she can say. And I ask you, what in the world can he see in her? He must be a bit of a chump, when all’s said and done. She’s got feet like boats, whiskers like an American, and her undies are filthy. I can tell you, a little shop girl would be ashamed to be seen in her knickers. Do just look at his eyes a moment; you would jump into the fire for a man like that. Hush, don’t say a word; he’s seen me; look, he’s smiling. Oh, he remembers me all right. Just you mention my name to him, and see what he says!”
À l'Ombre des Jeunes Filles en Fleurs Vol. 2 of À la Recherche du Temps Perdu, Marcel Proust 1919; translated by C. K. Scott Moncrieff 1922.
I was at Hannaford in Middletown on Sunday pushing my stuck-wheel shopping cart from lemons to a Turkish grind dark-roast, trying not to hit any of my fellow shoppers intentionally, when—ever so faintly—this song came over the store speakers and saved us.
This is deep Indigo over Cochineal after several long dips in the blue pot. The color is close to one of the New York Twilight variations, but much more intense. Is it a navy purple? The color intrigues me, it eludes a name and dyeing the same hue again will not be easy. Some colors are truly one of a kind. Make sure you buy one skein more than you think you'll need because when it's gone, it's gone.
This color was dyed in a limited editions of 12 skeins.
Each worsted skein weighs 2 ounces (50 grams) and it is 140 yards in length; the wool comes from our superfine Saxon Merino sheep and is hand-dyed with natural colors on the farm. Expect 5-6.5 stitches per inch using US 5-8/3.75-5.25 mm needles.
Available from the Yarn Store.
How Shipping Skews the Food Market: The New York Times' Paul Krugman explains that "The volume of world shipping has, of course, risen a lot over the past 40 years--almost 250 percent" but the value of those shipped goods "has risen more than twice as much," the result being "a shift toward more electronics and other high-value-to-weight goods." But food doesn't have a very high value-to-weight, thus increasing prices because of the marginally increasing shipping costs.
On Saturday night I get back to the house from Union Square about 8:30. The day has been long and the hours outside on the streets of New York City were loud; the only thing I can do well is watch TV; because there are no advertisements to ignore, I watch C-SPAN'S BookTV. Professor Frank Dikötter was reading from his book, Mao's Great Famine and taking questions from the audience at the Asia Society in New York.
Much of what he had to say was about farmers and food; I was engrossed. And you can watch it on the web at booktv.org if you like.
"Between 1958 and 1962, China descended into hell. Mao Zedong threw his country into a frenzy with the Great Leap Forward, an attempt to catch up to and overtake Britain in less than 15 years The experiment ended in the greatest catastrophe the country had ever known, destroying tens of millions of lives." So opens Frank Dikötter's riveting, magnificently detailed chronicle of an era in Chinese history much speculated about but never before fully documented because access to Communist Party archives has long been restricted to all but the most trusted historians.
Dikötter makes clear, as nobody has before, that far from being the program that would lift the country among the world's superpowers and prove the power of Communism, as Mao imagined, the Great Leap Forward transformed the country in the other direction. It became the site not only of "one of the most deadly mass killings of human history,"—at least 45 million people were worked, starved, or beaten to death—but also of "the greatest demolition of real estate in human history," as up to one-third of all housing was turned into rubble. The experiment was a catastrophe for the natural world as well, as the land was savaged in the maniacal pursuit of steel and other industrial accomplishments."—synopsis from the Amazon website.
Mao's Great Famine: The History of China's Most Devastating Catastrophe, 1958-1962 by Frank Dikötter, 2010.
Available from Amazon.com
"While the US and the world bemoan high food prices and the inflationary pressures it causes, not to mention more people going hungry, there is very little talk about the 33 million acres in the US that taxpayers pay to sit idle. There is also the huge shift of food grains being burned for fuel, mostly corn for ethanol. Taxpayers subsidize ethanol production in addition to the subsidies directly to corn producers; those ethanol subsidies that were expected to expire on Dec. 31 were quietly re-instated into the budget even while politicians promised budget cuts. Yes, that’s right; here in the US, the same citizens that pay record high prices for food also subsidize the non-production of food, the transfer of food to fuel and the transfer of acres to corn to be used for that fuel.
Where is the logic?"
From [A] Agriculture.com
And in addition—speculation—when prices are rising, due to natural grain shortages from droughts or from acreage allocated to fuel production, etc., investment capital is buying commodity futures (as good investments) making food prices rise exponentialy faster. We pay for this with our money, the world poor pay for this with their bodies.
Is there an evil here or is this just free market capitalism? Maybe I should blame my mother, she taught me to root for the underdog.
On the way to the farm I was struck by the vastness of the fiery sky; but I realized I couldn't get to the sheep before the sun had gotten too low to photograph this ever furtive light behind them. As I drove toward the sun, the colors evolved, the dark clouds were ablaze as if an arsonist had torched the sky.
Beauty is communal, it must be shared to be realized. There was a sense of aloneness to this splendor; there was a need to picture it, to tell someone about it.
@kimmiechem2 came by the stand this last Saturday so I could take a photo of her hat knit from a Cochineal dyed yarn and her two scarves that were knit from Indigo overdyes; the teal was Indigo over Weld and the blue with pink accents was Indigo over Cochineal. Lovely, lovely work.
A close up of the basket weave scarf.
Not a knitter me, but I like to see what others have done with wool from the sheep that I raise and with the yarn that I've dyed. That's why I do what I do.
Also it's an exciting learning experience for to me to see how knitters put colors together; as she holds her scarf over yarn she buys for future projects: a Weld, an Osage/Logwood and a more purple Indigo overdye of Cochineal.
Thank you. And it's really fun to meet people from Twitter; it feels like you're meeting celebrities.