I finished the DNA scarf last night, and blocked it.

 

There is still some frilling going on at the edges, but I expect that will resolve itself with wear. #2 son tried it on (picture will be posted later) and said, “Hey! That looks like DNA — see, there’s the double helix!” I take this as evidence that it was successful. It is also soft and warm, qualities which will be greatly appreciated in the winter. Scriveling also finished her DNA scarf, though she didn’t put her name on the DNA-along. She was a secret DNA-along-er. I will be making one or two more of them, and will probably begin the next one today, after taking some time to appreciate this one. The color, while non-traditional for a seaman’s sweater, is lovely.

#2 son also noted that it smells like a wet dog, which is true. I don’t know why this should be so. I will rinse it in water with a drop of sandalwood oil in it, in hopes of correcting this flaw.

I finished it not at the performance last night, but while watching Timeline at home afterwards. #2 son was thrilled that he could understand a lot of the French (he is taking his first French class). We had both really enjoyed the book, and enjoyed the movie as well, though his comment, “It was good, but not as good as the book,” was accurate. Books are always better, though, because they have your imagination to help them along. And the battle scenes aren’t nearly as long or gory in books, at least when I am reading them. We had some good discussions about weapons technology while they were going on, though. (I still don’t get my husband’s joke about the vacuum. Longbows, crossbows, Greek Fire, vacuums?)

The performance went well. The new library (http://www.faylib.org/ ) is beautiful. We sang in the room pictured at this link, which was a surprising venue, but it had wonderful acoustics.  So did the staircase. However, let me give you a hint — if you are singing madrigals in a large group, in a very live room, while walking, without direction (I mean the singing, not the walking) down an enormous spiral staircase, you will not stay together. The echoes mislead you and everyone makes slight unconscious adjustments to the echoes and pretty soon there is this millisecond of lag between the front and back of the line.

Here’s another hint. You can’t translate madrigals with Babelfish. Here is what Babelfish gave me for “Amor opra che puoi”: “love opra that you can that l mine contentosia d’ eternal always ch’ I gioiro never always love dille that l you know that solae of alive mine and ch’altra desio the love does not make to know them that who not and soggeto to your great reign and dishonourable glie de life.” I didn’t get much out of that, did you? I came upon this translation of “So ben…” on the web, and liked it much better:

“THIS SONG IS IN ITALIAN,
THIS SONG IS IN ITALIAN,
FA LA LA LA
LALALALALALA

BUT I DON’T KNOW THE WORDS,
BUT I DON’T KNOW THE WORDS,
FA LA LA LA
LALALALALALA”

My knowledge of Italian is minimal. Things that look sort of like Latin, menu items, easy phrases used in the Lucia books — the usual for Americans who have not studied Italian. So I was pleased when we did one French song, so at least I would know what was going on. I think this is part of why Italian madrigals often sound just alike — the singers do not know that this one is a bawdy song making fun of Germans, that one is in the character of a silly country girl, and the other is the most romantic thing ever written. They are mostly just singing “This song is in Italian, but I don’t know the words, fa la la la!”