Saisquoi?

I don't get as much time with C as I would like to have. It's the biggest struggle I've had since becoming a mother and returning to work. I hesitate to even refer to it as work/life balance because such a thing is not possible with an impossibly cute and naughty toddler on one side and a 40 hour per week plus 45 minute each way commute on the other.

My solution has been to make the most of our all-too-limited Mommy-Daughter time and build in some special routines. Currently, Saturday mornings are ours. We get up early and go to the Farmer's Market. Sometimes we go to the playground. Then we go out for breakfast. It's not huge, but it's ours. And it's special.

Also special? Watching your kid DEVOUR eggs and homefries. If you're ever at the Friendly Toast, C highly recommends the Guy Scramble. She thinks it would be really great with coffee, but Mama isn't quite ready for that level of special.

My camera! Woo-hoo!

Now I can show you pictures of my baby socks and the finished Calamity socks. Can you stand it?


Baby Socks
Pattern: A variation on the Magic 28 theme (I think they were Magic 36)
Yarn: Yarn Pirate 100% merino sock yarn in the "Rum Runner" colorway
Purchased from: Yarn Pirate "Booty Club"
Needles: Susan Bates US size 1/2.25 mm (5-7 inch DPNs)

Cute, aren't they? But a little small for me. These fit a bit better:


Plain vanilla with a side of picot socks
Yarn: Yarn Pirate BFL sock yarn in the "Calamity" colorway
Purchased from" Yarn Pirate "Booty Club"
Needles: Knitpicks US size 1.5/2.5 mm (5-6 inch DPNs)

The lighting is crappy. I apologize. I miss sunshine, but am too lazy to use the photo editor right now...





I like them. They're cute. They took forever to finish, but I blame the Alpaca Silk Shrug. No pictures of that one, yet. I'm on the ruffle, which means it is almost done. The ruffle is supposed to be six inches long--I've knit three. It's killing me. The 5x5 ribbing may be more boring than the miles of stockinette. But I try to keep going because the end really is in sight.

I also started a pair of socks out of the "Butternut" colorway. I'm not thrilled with them. I like the colors and I like the texture of the yarn, which is a merino/tencel blend, but the colors are pooling funny. Now, I'm generally not bothered much by pooling, but, thus far, my sock just looks goofy. I can't get a picture that even approximates--I'll need sun for that one. I'm not ready to pull it out yet, because I can't be sure that it won't get better. I can live with a goofy looking cuff it it evens out eventually, but... (whine).

In other knitting news, I got a Ravelry request to use one of the photos of my Epiphany mittens (this one, I think) as a featured photo for the pattern I used (Basic Pattern for Children's Mittens by Elizabeth Durand). Neato, eh?

Otherwise, there isn't much else to report. Work is, well, work. I had my 90-day review last week, and they're letting me stay, so, that's good. They're happy with my work; I just need to get faster. Which I already knew, so...

The Beloved and I are refinancing the house. I'm sure it will be fine and it's the right thing to do and all, but just thinking about the large amounts of money involved just makes me feel ill. When the papers are all signed and its over, I'll be fine, but until that point I think I'll just hide under the bed or something.

PFC Sibling is still in medic training in Texas. She called last week to report that her orders now state that she will be shipping out for Iraq in June. It's not a surprise, but it's still a rather jarring reality. Last Sunday I was at a church brunch and someone asked about my sister. Another woman sitting with us said in shock and horror, "well how old is she?" My sister will be 28 next week. "Oh, well that's OK. At least she's not a baby."

Excuse me? Fortunately for everyone, I had a seven-year-old sitting next to me so I couldn't tell her what I really thought. Like it's somehow less horrible for my sister to go to war since she's "older." Like if her transport gets blown up on the way to some tent city hospital it'll be OK. You know, they should serve liquor at church brunches.

On that happy note, it is frickin' freezing here. I need to see why my fire isn't warming up the room. Maybe I should put my new socks on?

Yeah, I know it's not over yet. Exciting things could still happen in the next two days. But, I gotta tell you, I've got time to write right now and if it doesn't get done now, I can't guarantee it will happen before it's time to go back to work!

So, first up, some knitting. I've been working on the Alpaca Silk Shrug. The Alpaca & Silk Yarn from Blue Sky Alpacas is absolutely divine. Which is a good thing. Particularly since the miles and miles and miles of plain stockinette is becoming mind-numbing. There's not even any shaping to break up the monotony now that I'm past the first sleeve. Just 29 inches of knit the RS. Purl the WS. Repeat.

It's funny. I love knitting. So I thought, even if it's boring knitting I'll like it. This will be great for watching TV because I won't need to think too much. But, you know, I would just about kill for a yarn over. Or a cable somewhere. Even some shaping. Anything. I tell you, it's a good thing the yarn is so yummy, because I've still got miles to go before I sleep.







Looks good, though, doesn't it? In spite of all my whinging? I have vain hopes that it will be finished in time for me to wear on Christmas Eve. Which means that no one gets handknit gifts this year. Whoops! And there's no way The Beloved's sweater will be done. Particularly since I haven't even started it yet. And we won't even talk about my Romantic Hand Knit. I knit a swatch for that one....but....

So, yeah. If you choose to knit a sweater (or a sweater-like garment) from sportweight yarn on US size 3 needles, consider it the knitting equivalent of a marathon. Even The Beloved has noticed the slow-going. I think his comment other than "What do you want me to say? It looks exactly the same as when you showed it to me yesterday!" was "That's going to take you forever with all those itty-bitty stitches. Think of the millions of loops!" He did, however, comment that I did good work, so I suppose he's being supportive in his own way.

Next up, the Great Day of Eating. I love Thanksgiving. I love all the tasty food. I love that no one cares how much you eat. And I love seeing my extended family. I mean, my mother and my aunt do family dinner every Sunday, so we see a lot of my family, anyway, but, well, they're fun. We got a call from my sister at 2:00--the traditional family eating time--and so we all got to sing grace together. (We sing the song "The Lord's Been Good to Me" from "Johnny Appleseed.") PFC Sibling (formerly known as Resident Sibling) said she was so happy to get to sing over the phone with us because that was not the grace the Chaplain used at their Thanksgiving Dinner at Basic.

Anyhow. I, personally, have a lot to be thankful for. Not just this weekend, but always. I am thankful for The Beloved, for my home, for my family and for the wonderful relationship I have with them, for my friends, who have got to be among the most awesome human beings on the planet. I'm thankful for my job and for The Beloved's job. I'm thankful that my cats appear to be in good health. I'm thankful that all of us are in good health. Though I can whinge with the best of them, I really have nothing to complain about. And, you know, I'm thankful for that, too.

Yesterday was my parent's 33rd wedding anniversary. So, The Beloved and I took them out for Day After Thanksgiving festivities. No, we did not go shopping. But we did go to Boston. We had dinner at the Silvertone Bar & Grill, which is just off of Tremont Street about a block past the Common. Dad had some of the best Jerk Chicken ever, Mom had Steak Tips, and The Beloved and I had a couple of tasty burgers. Then, we got into the holiday spirit with the help of the Brian Setzer Orchestra and their 6th Annual Holiday Tour. They were playing at The Orpheum. OK--so, if you EVER have the chance to see these guys play, GO. They are so. Much. Fun. Even The Beloved had fun. My parents had fun. Totally great show. They played arrangements of Christmas songs, they played Stray Cats tunes, they played swing tunes, they played rockabilly. Fun for all!

And now, well, those were my plans for the weekend. I should probably do some laundry so that The Beloved and I have clothes to wear to work next week. We're talking about going to see No Country for Old Men, but The Beloved, I think, has had enough people and would rather order Chinese takeout and build a fire in the fireplace. Both are tempting, I tell you.

As a final note, y'all who are doing NaBloPoMo, hats off! I have a hard time posting once a week. And you guys have been at it every day. Good for you! And those excellent posts--well, just one more thing to be thankful for.

I meant to post a weekend roundup yesterday, but was a) too lazy; b) without photographs; and c) too lazy. I'm still without photographs, but felt as though I could post now and perhaps do a picture-heavy post later in the day. If I can train The Beloved to use the point-and-shoot camera, that is.

So, here's what I did this weekend:

1. Got a cholesterol test done. I know, I know, you're all jealous. It was a lot of fun. Particularly when the phlebotomist couldn't find a vein. After she stuck the needle into my arm. The bruising is highly attractive. I don't quite look like a junkie, but if I had waited another week or so, it would only have added to my Amy Winehouse Halloween Costume.

2. Visited my grandmother. Visited is a loose term. I sat with her for a while. My grandmother is not doing so well and when I saw her on Saturday, she was completely non-responsive. I believe they were going to stop the antibiotics and take her off of most--if not all--of the other equipment last night, but I haven't pulled it together enough to call my mother for the update. If you're a praying person and can stop to light a candle for her, I would be greatly appreciative.

3. Cut all of my hair off. Pictures would be helpful here, no? Alas, The Beloved was not able to manipulate my Canon Elph. Yeah, it's a point and shoot. He doesn't quite grasp that he needs to hold the button down until it clicks, and I just didn't have the patience to deal with him last night. I had taken a couple of pictures of myself with my camera phone, but, let's face it, they are of such craptastic quality that I can't in good conscience (and in complete sobriety) post them on the internet. Hopefully, tonight, we will find that the husbeast can, in fact, be trained.

Anyway. I'm happy with the haircut. It's a good change, it looks good, and it's easy for me to style and manage and stuff. The Beloved thinks I look like River Phoenix as the young Indiana Jones. What a charmer!

4. Looked at wedding rings. Yeah. Never thought I'd have to do this again, but about two weeks ago I developed a severe case of eczema on the ring finger of my left hand. It still hasn't cleared up all the way. I moved my wedding ring to my right hand and began to grow a nice little spot of itchy pain between my ring finger and my pinkie finger. My rings are now on a chain around my neck--I feel like I'm in high school.

Now, I know that it may not be an allergy to the ring itself--as my auntie says, it is probably an allergy to the soap that gets under the ring when I wash my hands. Or it's contact dermatitis aggravated by the band being too tight (it's not) or too wide (possible--it is on the wider side, particularly when I wear it with my engagement ring). But that doesn't explain why I don't have a problem when I wear silver rings--I have one with a wide band that I wear on my right hand that has never caused a problem. And I have never been able to wear gold in my piercings--ears or nose--without having a painful reaction. I don't know if it's the gold, or if I'm just really sensitive to the other metals they use in creating the alloy, but, let me tell you, the possibility of being allergic to my wedding ring really sucks. If the eczema on my left hand ever finishes clearing up, I'll give the ring another go before I call the doctor for some tests. Then, the search for a solution begins.

I went to the jewelry store to ask about having the inside of the ring plated or coated with something--rhodium, I think (I read about this online and wanted to see how much it would cost and how often I'd have to have it done in order to wear my wedding and engagement rings--both gold--without this fun little reaction) and no one seemed interested in talking about that. They were really interested in showing me all of their platinum rings. Platinum, after all, is nearly hypoallergenic. And, after all, "you're worth it." The Beloved is not so sure about that. Fortunately for him, I'm not scouting diamonds as well. We watched Blood Diamond on the HBO preview a couple of weeks ago, and, let me tell you, it really turns you off of wanting a nice big rock on your finger if you're thinking your money is going to arm ten year old boys and support genocide in African nations.

When I first bitched about this over Sunday coffee a couple of weeks ago (the owie finger, not the genocide thing), my father was the one who suggested putting the ring on a chain. "After all," he said, "You've got the husband. What else do you need?" And he's right. Except that after wearing a ring on that finger for seven years (five married, two engaged), I feel naked without it. I don't care if we get a plain silver band--I just hate looking down and seeing nothing there....well, except for the red band of dry, irritated skin, that is.

5. Went out for Teppanyaki with The Beloved. He had never been before. There's something really fun about watching someone play with knives and fire whilst preparing your meal. Plus, the food was quite tasty.

6. Indulged in retail therapy. No, I probably didn't need the Vera Bradley bag. But it was sooooo pretty. Besides, my auntie commented on the hugeness and overstuffed-ness of my everyday handbag, which made me feel bad. This is much better. Too small to overstuff.

7. Celebrated Baby Brother's 20th birthday. How the hell did he get to be 20? No one asked my permission on this one. I'm not sure how I feel about it. How can he be 20? Wasn't it just the other day that he was in love with Libby and chasing her around in full Power Rangers regalia? Or dressed as a purple dinosaur? Anyway. The official date is today--the Baby is now 20 years old. I think I need a lie down.

8. Worked on Conwy. Yeah. Remember that sock? I'm about halfway done with the foot on sock #2. The end is in sight.

9. Ordered yarn for the Romantic Hand Knits-along. I'll be knitting "A Room With a View" and I'll be knitting it in the colors used in the book. (Saisquoi receives a C- for creativity and thinking outside the box, I know.) I thought about doing the sweater in brown with white lace, but thought I'd look too much like a pilgrim. Plus, I like blue. I look good in blue. And I'm trying really hard to wear more colors. I've fallen into another gray/black/brown/ecru rut.

So, there you have it. Sort of busy. Busy enough that Sunday night found The Beloved and I watching Children of Men on the Cinemax free preview wondering where the weekend went. And why we keep picking such "feel good" films to watch.

No pictures yet of the shrug, mostly because I started it for the third freaking time last night. Gauge, you are a cruel mistress. (Note: I did knit a gauge swatch and got gauge with a US 4 Addi Turbo when I decided to knit this thing--but that was a couple of weeks ago.)

So, when I started it the first time, I thought I chose the wrong sized needles. Pattern called for a US 4 and the stitches looked too loose. I was knitting on an Addi Turbo, and it was dark so I couldn't read the numbers on the cord. When I looked in my needle drawer, I found an empty package for a US 6 circular, so I assumed (stupid me) that's what I was using. Fortunately, I hadn't gone too far, so the ripping wasn't all that traumatic.

I pulled out a US 4 circular needle and cast on again. Knit some more. Last night I looked at my partial sleeve and thought two things: 1) I don't like how I've done my increases; and 2) This still looks kind of loose. So, out came the tape measure and, dammit, my gauge was off. Now, it's a shrug, and a loose-fitting one at that, so while gauge is important, I wasn't so far off that the sweater would have fit Tom Brady at the end. But it just didn't look quite right. So, out it came and I moved down to an Addi Turbo US 3. Where I finally got gauge. Again.

I'm wondering when my tension loosened up so much? How did this happen? It's certainly not because I'm relaxed. Especially after ripping out the damned sleeve two times. And why does knitting the same sweater on a US 3 circular needle seem so much more daunting than if I was using the recommended US 4? And why do I bother knitting swatches at all if they're just going to lie to me anyway!

In other news... Once you turn in your resignation, your desire and ability to be productive at work take a marked turn for the worse. Does this happen to other people, or is it just me? I now feel bad about giving so much notice, because I have another three weeks of just not caring ahead of me. I mean, I'll gladly help people if they have questions--it's more a question of motivation. Library work is not steady. Sometimes you have patrons with questions, often you don't. Today is a no-questions sort of day, which means I need to take care of other administrative sorts of things. Or catalog. Or do something. So I photocopied some more ILL and Equipment Usage handouts earlier in the day as an attempt to be a good worker bee, but now...I'm literally counting down till I can leave. Or at least take a 15 minute break and work on my sock. So pathetic.

On a happier note, I think I've decided what I'm going to knit for the Romantic Hand Knits-Along. I'm planning on making A Room with a View, which is a "lace peplum surplice design...excellent for all body types, especially a short-waisted figure." Sign me up. If the short-waisted part wasn't enough to make me want to knit this, the fact that surplice-styled tops flatter my ever-expanding upper-body doesn't hurt. I have no idea why they've decided to grow. I'm over 30. I'm not pregnant. This is driving me nuts and making clothes-shopping (and the concept of knitting a sweater) an absolute nightmare. Hence the shrug. If I can ever get past the lower half of the first sleeve. < /rant >

OH, and I can't believe I've forgotten to write about this last piece of big news that's now a week old! Resident Sibling is out of the house! She's joined the Army and is happily settled at Boot Camp. OK--so I can't be sure she's happy, but this is what she's wanted, and more importantly, she's no longer in the next room over! Unfortunately, she left so quickly that she failed to get her things out of the room she occupied. So, she may be gone, but I'm still stuck with her crap. The Beloved and I are hoping to start in on a massive basement project so that her items may be moved out of what will be my fiber studio. (HA--Is that not the craziest thing you ever heard?) With the possible exception of her stash. Now, there's actually quite a bit in her stash that doesn't interest me at all. But she's got about a metric ton of Lopi that is just begging to be knit into felted bags. And maybe felted slippers. Laura reminds me that I really should be a good person and ask her what she would like done with her stash.... but being good is just so darned hard when my little brain starts making plans!

...to my handsome man. I love you, sweetie pie!

We celebrated in grand style this weekend. And, accordingly, I forgot to photograph any of it. Whoops! We still ate very well and had a wonderful time with family (on Sunday) and friends (on Monday).

Thank you all for coming and recognizing the end of The Beloved's carefree youth with us :)

First, I'd like to thank everyone for the positive vibes sent my way. It really does help--I need the kick in the backside to remember that it really isn't all me in a bubble of misery and that there is a great big world out there. So, thank you.

Still no knitting pictures. Between rest and arnica, my wrists are feeling better and I'm doing a little knitting. But I discovered a hole in the gusset decreases of the sock. After swearing at it and putting it back in the bag for three days, I'm dismayed to discover it hasn't fixed itself and I'll have to rip back about ten rows to fix whatever I did--and believe you me, I have no idea what I did. Oh well.

The sock has not been fixed because now that my wrists are better, I feel as though someone has beaten me soundly with the tired stick. I'm blaming the change in weather (it has been positively autumnal for the past week up here in NH) and a change in schedule (I'm back at the college 20 hours/week. Yippee!!). Last night I was in bed at 9:30 and I still feel exhausted. Enough already!

I have learned my lesson--hubris is to be punished by the knitting gods. Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.

Other updates: Resident Sibling goes up to Portland tonight for her Army physical tomorrow morning. She'll also take the DLAB while she's up there. Fingers are crossed that she does well and that she ships out soon for fun at Basic. [Note: This is not meant to sound hostile. Joining the Army is a BIG DEAL and, particularly since members of our Armed Forces are dying to preserve the peace in Iraq and Afghanistan, it is certainly not a decision to be taken lightly. However, Resident Sibling desperately needs to make a decision regarding her life and career goals and go with it. If this is her choice, I support it whole-heartedly and encourage her to get a move on before she changes her mind. Again. Besides, I really want my house back.]

Plans are in the works for next week's birthday gala events. I think I'm making lasagna for the family gathering on Sunday. So, Saturday will be consumed with construction of two casseroles so that all I need to do is reheat after church before the fam shows up. Monday is a little bit harder because I think I'm going to have to shop in the morning and then surreptitiously marinate lamb for souvlaki and start a caponata while my little cherub sleeps. If I buy everything in advance, he's sure to know something is up. Hmmm. Last week, these were daunting prospects, but for whatever reason, I'm no longer terrified by the thought of entertaining. I'm actually quite excited. Perhaps it's because my house is nearly in order.

Now, my house will never be perfect. I leave that for people like my mother. But my house is now about 2 hours away from not being an utter embarrassment should anyone stop by unexpectedly. Yay! It hasn't looked this good since Easter. Which does a lot for my mental and emotional sense of well-being. Now, if only I could get The Beloved to help with some of the housework.... but perhaps that and an about face for my mood are too much to ask for in a week.

On Saturday, I went fishing with my Dad, my cousin, and her young son. Now, normally, I'm not a great outdoorsy person. I've been camping and hiking and fishing and I like it all fine, but I'm very fair and me and the sun tend not to go too well together. So, outdoorsy experiences often end for me with a painful sunburn. Which could be partially alleviated were I to remember to apply sunscreen liberally and often, but please--how much do you really think of that whilst baiting hooks?

Anyway, my cousin's son is about four. I think. It's hard to remember, particularly because he keeps giving himself birthday parties. We have newly christened him "Backwoods" due to his prowess in the great outdoors. The four of us drove from the Seacoast up to Lake Winnepesauke. Dad navigated to Long Island, which is an area up on the north end of the lake where he would take my sister and I fishing when we were small. You drop your line off of a bridge and hope for the best. Unfortunately, the lake has become much more crowded in the many years since I was Backwoods' age, and it's harder to fish from the bridge due to all the boat traffic. Fortunately, it was a nice day and everyone was in a good mood (boaters and fishermen alike).

Naturally, Backwoods caught the first fish:



And the second.



(We decided to let nature live with the second one. It was teeny. The first one, though, was eatin' size, so that came home with us.)

My luck was not so good. But I was outside with Dad, my cousin and Backwoods, so it was all good. We were fishing with worms (Backwoods brought some of his own from his garden, and we picked up some absolutely ginormous night crawlers) and with hellgrammites. I baited hooks and helped Backwoods cast out. Eventually, I got one.



I think it might have been the same fish we let live earlier. We chose to follow the same path this time around. So back it went into the lake.

Backwoods was getting a little tired, so we packed it in and drove back towards home. We were hungry, so we stopped at the Happy Pig for barbecue.



The Happy Pig is actually called the Yankee Smokehouse. We knew we were in for some good times when the waitress brought these around:



The food was excellent. Some of the best barbecue I've had up in New England. You don't get any pictures of it because I was too busy eating. Here--let me distract you with a picture of Backwoods and his coloring:



Once we finished lunch, we got back on the road towards home. We had passed a "secret fishing place" on the way up that Dad had always wanted to try. So we stopped. It was a hatchery with a pay-to-fish pond on site. Sometimes, paying to fish is prohibitively expensive. Dad and I fly fish at a place about 20 minutes away from us where the guy charges $25 per day to fish, not including the cost of anything you catch to keep. (We don't keep anything). This place, on the other hand, was $3.50/fish. The guy out by the pond would supply the rod, the bait, and a bucket for the fish--if you could catch any.



Turns out that wasn't a problem.



$3.50/fish for 12-inch rainbow trout is not a bad deal. In fact, we paid less for the fish we brought home than we would have paid for the same amount of fish at the grocery store. Plus, we got to rip worms in half and reel them in and pull out hooks and stuff. I think Dad's going to take Backwoods back next Sunday to catch family dinner. It's totally worth the trip--which we now bill at "10 minutes of hot and heavy fishing."

We looked at the baby fish on the way out (sorry--they're hard to see in the photo).



And then we headed for home.

Fishing is hard work.

Well, we survived. Cheese tray, deviled eggs, 10 pounds of ham, 10 pounds of mashed potatoes, asparagus, corn, green bean casserole, salad, bread, and pie. Oh, and lots of wine. And, can I forget the nineteen people who somehow fit into my teeny-tiny house? It was great fun. My cousin's little son, B, was the family photographer. They are supposed to send me pictures later this week. Until then, you'll have to deal with my inferior snapshots taken in between hostess and cooking duties...

These delectable little babies were courtesy of my mother-in-law. They didn't last very long.

This handsome young man is my baby brother. He is not the sibling in residence--he's a college boy, but he comes home on the weekends to do his laundry and eat some non-institutional cooking. My family is big on this--every Sunday we have dinner as an extended family. Location rotates between my mother's house and my aunt's house and generally involves about 10 guests, but can get as large as 17. Easter was bigger because it included my in-laws. Woo-hoo!

My mother and my auntie. Excellent genes in my family. I'm hoping that mine kick in eventually :)

Amazingly, there were very few leftovers. We've got a fair amount of ham, but nearly everything else was consumed. So, this is what I did with about 10-12 oz. of leftovers tonight: Macaroni & Cheese with Ham. Yes, exciting, I know. But this recipe is a little different and a little more grown-up than the garden variety mac & cheese.

Here's what you need:

• 8 oz macaroni (I used penne), cooked and drained
• 10 oz. ham cut into strips oz ham cut into strips
• 3 eggs
  
• 2 c. half & half
• salt & pepper
  
• 3/4 c. grated cheese (I used a blend of mozzarella and cheddar, I think--and I probably used more than the recommended amount)
  
• 4 grated parmesan (I used a blend of parmesan, romano and asiago)

Here's what I did:

• Butter a casserole dish.
• Layer pasta and ham and pasta and ham, etc. in the dish.
  
• Whisk eggs, half & half and salt & pepper together. Pour over pasta and ham.
• Top with grated cheese.
• Bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes or until liquid has become custard-like.

Yum.

Oh! And I did some knitting! Not much--it's hard to knit and eat at the same time, you know. But I finished the mystery object, which I unfortunately forgot to photograph. Damn. Anyhow--I knit this little bag. It was cute, but it definitely needs to be lined, which the instructions don't tell you. Should I make this bag again--which is distinctly possible because it really was cute--I'll definitely line it.

I also cast off the baby cardi. Tomorrow it gets washed and blocked and then hopefully I'll have it together enough to finish it on Wednesday after work. If not Wednesday, I've got Thursday "off" from choir rehearsal, and so it might get finished then. So far, it's very cute--I mean, as far as off-white cardigans for infants go. Particularly when they're in multiple pieces on the coffee table. No pictures tonight--perhaps some "action" shots of blocked pieces tomorrow....

Do you see? Isn't it wonderful? This, my friends, is my new drop spindle. Courtesy of LauraJ, the great enabler. To continue the enabling trend, we are going to go to The Elegant Ewe after work today to buy more roving so that I can practice. Oh, and to generally misbehave and probably purchase things that neither of us require at this point in time. Needless to say, I am not focused on cataloging or on providing research assistance to anyone who may call. Nor am I thinking about the Sunday School lessons I'll have to put together tomorrow for use on Sunday. I'm thinking about playing with my new spindle and how much fun it may or may not be with kitty-cat help.

If you look closely you can see my first feeble attempts at spinning. It's very unimpressive. But we all must begin somewhere. I am apparently at the low edge of the learning curve. I will, however, keep in mind my grandmother's stories about the first sweaters she knit. By the time I was receiving gifts of sweaters, the woman produced heirloom quality garments. Beautiful, elaborate Norwegian sweaters. "The first one I made was so tight your grandfather couldn't even put it on." But, apparently, she kept plugging away until she got it right. It's a shame that she had stopped knitting by the time I had stopped growing as beautiful sweaters I had were all outgrown...by more than one child...and then shipped off to Good Will or yard sales.

Should I fail to post over the weekend, think of me fondly--living in the house once owned by this same grandmother--swearing at my ineptitude as I spin right round.

Is being handled by The Beloved this evening. He's making a roast, but there seems to be an inordinate amount of smoke involved. I don't want to complain, though, because as long as he's king of the kitchen, I am free to sit in the living room watching the newly remastered, H-D version of West Side Story. Seriously, lyrics by Stephen Sondheim and score by Leonard Bernstein--does it get any better? Well, perhaps the stage version without the language edits. But this is certainly not a bad way to spend the evening. Maria and Tony have just met at the dance and I'm just as mesmerized as the first time I saw the play. And I can just about guarantee that I'll be in tears by the end, just like always.

This is actually the high point of the weekend. It was rather lazy. Call it the calm before the storm. One of my siblings is moving in with us tomorrow--a move to which I agreed, but am now dreading. We don't get along so well, and sibling may or may not have a job. The agreement, though, when we said sibling could move in, was that everyone in this house works. So, if sibling doesn't have a job, sibling will be working for us. I keep telling myself, if nothing else, my house will be clean and I'll begin to start some of my bigger projects like painting the office/nursery for any potential offspring. There is a bright side, right? Right?

West Side Story allows for some rather easy knitting. I did work on the Blue Lagoon Blankie this weekend, and I knit a prototype watermelon hat. My girlfriends say it's cute--so long as it's for an infant or a toddler--which it is. The Beloved thinks putting such a creation on a child is cruel and unusual punishment and the fact that I (and my female friends) would do such a thing is only proof that women are inherently evil. God willing, I'll be able to do some mediocre pictures tomorrow. I got a new phone, with a new camera. I still can't upload pictures which makes me sure the problem is on Virgin Mobile's end. I plan to spend the better part of the afternoon on the phone with Myron or one of his counterparts.

I may also take some pictures of the face cloths I'm knitting. Next weekend my grandmother is moving into Assisted Living--something she is not looking forward to at all. Since there is absolutely nothing I can do to make this easier for anyone involved--my parents, my grandmother, the poor staff at the house where she'll be living--I'm knitting. I figured I could make some face cloths and put them in a little basket with some soap or lotion or something. That'll be nice, right? Cute little housewarming gift?

Anyway--we're up to the Tonight quartet, so I've got to pay attention to the TV. Tomorrow I'll let you know about Bishop Robinson's response to the Primate's meeting and our Presiding Bishop's response.