Exotic is wherever you aren't.

I went to the beach (I'm spending a week in Myrtle Beach, SC) on Sunday and mostly hated it for not being Kualoa Beach Park (that was my favorite beach to go to when I lived in Hawaii). But as I looked around, I remembered something the kids in Hawaii taught me: Exotic is wherever you aren't. These kids had grown up with the beach as their playground, surfing and having luaus and speaking four or five languages (and knowing profanities in ten or twenty more), and they treated my stories of growing up in Ohio amid cow pastures and corn fields as strange and fascinating. So, with a sigh, I have pulled out the camera and begun to document.

You can tell there are knitters staying here.

The row of hotels along the beach would make a fantastic Fasset-ish pastel sweater in cottons. (Of course I think in sweaters. This is ME we're talking about.) I'll probably be designing that in a month or two, once I knit myself out from under this pile of projects I have going. (Let's not forget that wrap that I just threw away and need to re-knit.)

I am knitting like the wind (or at least a stiff breeze) on the kid kimono.


And that's about it for excitement here. Later today we're going to the book store, and I begin researching web-based businesses, because I've had An Idea.