'Je vois la vie en rose'

My life yesterday was a lovely mix of Parisienne chic and Stars Hollow charm. I was making dinner for a friend and decided we needed some bread to go with our soup and squash. I planned to go to the grocery store after work until I remembered -- with great delight -- that my neighborhood is home to a bakery. So I popped in and picked up a fresh baguette and strolled toward home, reveling in all my Francophile glory. (This was compounded by the fact that I was wearing my Paris-girl uniform: black dress, black boots, fancy tights and short black coat.)

I forgot to switch the lens back to autofocus, so this photo is totally wonky, but I kind of like the awkward artsiness of it.


Dinner consisted of much-hyped delicata and artichoke soup. Both were excellent. I primarily followed Jess's preparation for the delicata: chopped it in half, spread on some olive oil, sprinkled with salt and pepper, and baked for an hour at 350.


The chopping was much easier said than done. Perhaps if I'd had a bigger knife similar to this one (hint hint, Mama, Christmas is only two months away -- though I'm not sure how I'd check that thing through security in Memphis), then my life would have been easier. But I didn't, so that's why there are awkward cut marks on the squash.

I *generally* followed Blair's recipe for the artichoke soup. And by generally followed, I mean I basically used the same ingredients. I didn't really keep track of how much of anything I used. And I eyeballed the majority of the spices, but in essence, I used her recipe. With the addition of garlic. Everything's better with garlic.


Dinner was delish. The soup was excellent. Spicy. Warm. Yummy. The delicata was OK. For the texture, my pick would be spaghetti squash. But delicata definitely beats out acorn squash in my book.


After my jaunt to the bakery earlier, I had nipped into the craft store near my apartment (my street is just like Stars Hollow -- there's even an animal-themed store à la Le Chat Club) for supplies for our after-dinner pants-hemming party. Seriously, it was a party. There were orange corduroy hemline headbands. And dancing. I'm embarrassed to say there was even some Abba.


Does it get any more Lorelei Gilmore than that?

Someone should probably check to see that I'm still alive in the morning because I have a feeling she's going to murder me in my sleep for posting these photos. Happy Wednesday.

'Jingle bells, electric lights'

Things are winding down finally. I've been listening to my favorite "Christmas" song, "Christmas Katie," on repeat—I like the name! It's been cooler than 80 degrees in New Orleans this week. So it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas!


I'm 99% done with my Christmas crafts, shopping, and wrapping. And I'm 85% done with my deadline work that needs to be done before this weekend. After that, it's ten glorious days of watching "Lost" DVDs, playing with new Christmas toys, eating yummy things, and knitting! I can't wait. And I'm planning ahead.

I chopped nine inches of hair off earlier this month, which means getting used to short hair again and contemplating all the fun things I can do with it. Like wearing hats. I have a large head, so I always think hats look wonky on me. But I may be able to pull one off with my spunky new coif. I'm leaning towards a beret because I'm going to Paris this spring, and "when in Rome..."

I've been trolling Ravelry. I briefly considered Grumperina's Art Deco Beret from Knitscene, but I don't think I'm ready to commit to sparkly beads all over my head just yet. So I moved on to Wendy Bernard's Last-Minute Purled Beret and Le Slouch. But neither really jumped out and grabbed me. I was just about ready to give up and focus on finishing WIPs during my vacation. Until this morning. When by complete accident, I rediscovered this gem:


And all at once, it all came back. I remembered how much I loved this pattern when I first saw it last year (Vogue Knitting Holiday 2006). I imagined myself sitting in a lovely little Parisian sidewalk cafe, sipping café au lait and eating a crêpe—or maybe a baguette, no let's stick with the crêpe. I saw my sassy new haircut peeking out from under the hat. And I was sold. I went to the yarn store during my lunch break. Now I'm $40 poorer (size 13 circular needles don't come cheap), optimistic, and not destined to focus on boring, old WIPs over break! J'adore le chapeau!


Photos: apta.com, Vogue Knitting, and Rowan