The Two Bears and a Wintry Mix of Whatnot

8:13 PM


Teddy Bears
Pattern: Knitted Cuddlies available from Knitting Daily
Yarn: Patons Classic Wool Merino in the "Natural Mix" colorway
Purchased from: My local AC Moore
Needles: Knitpicks US size 7/4.5 mm (4 DPNs)

If you think these look familiar, you're right. This is the same pattern used to make Luigi (scroll down, I promise he's there). The pattern was quick, easy, and just the ticket for a handmade addition to Giving Tree gifts for Boy Baby and Girl Baby. I finished them on Saturday as Sunday was supposed to be the dropoff day at church. However, we had what is referred to as a big-ass Noreaster that day and church was canceled. Have you ever heard of anything so crazy? So I spent the rest of the day sitting on the couch and snuggling with Polly and knitting on the Alpaca Silk Shrug. Well, not really, but I wish that's how I spent my day.

Actually, I spent a good portion of the day trying to shovel out so that I could go to work this morning. The Beloved is on vacation and has come down with the obligatory cold. So he was of little help. Then the snowblower died. Then my neighbor's snow blower died. I seriously considered drinking the rest of the open bottle of sherry and then lying down naked in the back yard to see how long it would take me to die of exposure.

Fortunately my neighbor was able to fix his snowblower and he was able to remove the mountain of snow left by the plow. But then I had to shovel out another two times--after the sidewalk plow came through and again after the street plow came by again and knocked a wall of snow into my driveway. What is the appropriate gift for your snowblowing angel of a neighbor anyway? My husband, speaking in what I can only imagine was a fever accompanying his cold, asked our neighbor if he liked meat. (I said--find out if Mr. and Mrs. Neighbor are allergic to nuts--if no, we can send over some of the cookies I plan to bake this week. He asks "Do you like meat?" Sigh.) Apparently, my Beloved Spouse was thinking we could pick up a gift certificate to The Meat House for their Christmas Roast. The question just didn't come out sounding very...suave. My neighbor is probably convinced that we're completely deranged.

This morning I woke to find that everything was coated with ice. This makes it hard for the car to go. It was too much--I went inside and proceeded to have a meltdown at my husband. Who looks at me and says, "I thought you were good under pressure." Wonder of wonders, he is still alive. It must be a Christmas miracle.

Apparently it will take another Christmas miracle for us to get a tree. So, Christmas Eve is one week from today. Naturally, the Rotary Christmas Tree sale was not going on tonight. The Beloved, being good and patient and pragmatic, said "We'll try again tomorrow and we'll go earlier--before dinner." Saisquoi, being tired and bitter and resentful, said "I don't know why I expected to be able to buy a freakin' tree the week before Christmas anyway." I must be a South Pole elf.

Anyhow. I'm drinking egg nogg, trying very hard to feel Christmasy, what with all the snow and all, but I'm just tired and cranky. I'm afraid I'm coming down with my sweetie's cold (isn't sharing great?) and still have to get ready to host my in-laws on Christmas Eve, when, actually, I'll be at church trying somehow to pull together a children's story with participation for the service. (The prep work with the kids should have gotten done yesterday. But no church, so...) You know, I like the idea of Christmas. I like the stories. I like the singing. I like the time spent with family. All of this other stuff? Not so much. I'm not having fun right now, and I'm not quite sure how to make it be fun and not so painfully stressful.

So, instead, I'll have another egg nogg and work on my shrug and snuggle my cat and my husband. And if any of you have any ideas or any thoughts on alleviating pre-Christmas malaise, feel free to pass them along.

I'll try to post something cheerier tomorrow. Maybe if we manage to find a freakin' tree...

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