Beginning the week, beginning the month

First, a flower for Joan. My geranium is blooming again.



Today starts the JoanCookieLace project. I wound the yarn, I found the needles, I am paralyzed and have not started yet. Sigh.
When DH is gone for any length of time (in this case, it's been three days), the fiber starts to take over the house.



What you see there at the bottom is the first time all my Options tips have been put away (except the pair in Linden and the pair in Mary Jane) since I got the set. Labeled, even. I told you I was paralyzed - I did that this morning whilst looking for my size 5 tips.

I also picked out my first sock-club yarn. I consider it a deep and bitter irony that the ONLY WIP I put in was the one I pulled out first. I am thinking the universe is telling me to finish up some damn projects already. Anyway, I'll be finishing the Slippin' Stripin' Socks from last year's Sock Madness (signups are right now, if you're playing). These are laceweight socks held double, with the colors of one strand of laceweight changed in and out to create stripes. They're cute, and they're going to be really really soft. (I just have to remember not to wear them if my heels are cracked. Dry climate, alas.)



One more cutesy picture - I saw friends on Friday that I hadn't seen for months. (Well, I'd seen Dr. B, as he's Bug's and Squeak's doctor, but his wife, Gramma B, I hadn't seen.) They bestowed wonderful gifts on the boys (including the little sweater on the table in the picture toward the top, cuz she's a knitter) and gave me this mug, which combines my two best (non-family) loves: knitting and moose.



It says "woolgathering". Hee.

Flowers for Joan, and other things.

ETA: I think Haloscan is down. (Either that, or they spontaneously decided to dump me.) That means no comments until ees feeksed. Ees feeksed! Ees no feekst again. It appears ees really feekst this time. YMMV.

Valentine's weekend we went to San Diego, and one day we hopped on the Coaster and went to Carlsbad to have lunch at our favorite restaurant. Bug was over. the. moon.



Cutest moment of the trip? When he said, "I am never ever ever getting off this train."

Squeak slept through the whole thing. SIL kept saying she was going to make a series of pictures of Squeak asleep in his carrier: Squeak on the train, Squeak on the beach, Squeak at Sea World, Squeak on the Midway...

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Look Joan, warm!


(Subtitled: "Sigh, fingerprints on THIS lens too.")

African daisies say warm to me, even before they're open for the day.

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I recently decided I need to eat better and cut out some of the sweets. I've spent the last couple of days eating every last cookie, candy, cake, ice cream and donut in the house so they won't be around when I start eating better. I think I'm ready now.

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My wool/dog hair blend handspun. First skein is about sport/DK weight, second skein is about aran. Apparently as time goes on, I tend to spin more bulky than when I started. o.0 (Click for embiggenation. The coin in those photos is an American quarter, btw.) The dog hair had a hidden issue, too - when I washed the yarn to set the twist, the kitchen stunk like wet dog for hours.



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I muscled in on some of Cookie's Joan-Along lace action. Joan sent me some lovely beads (I mentioned thinking about beads in passing to her, and they showed up on my doorstep. I think I'll tell her I've always been fond of Matt Damon and see what she can do.) I think I'll add them to the edging. Or maybe not. Maybe I'll replace every blinking nupp in the project with them. Or maybe not. It's hard for me to control my magpie tendencies when they get a-rollin'.

Lost. All lost.

My phone charger, the lid to my favorite pot, and several weeks. I got WAY more done around the house when I was working in the office than now.
But, in an effort to drag out my WIPs even longer than necessary, I started...
SPINNING!
Yes, Virginia, Elizabeth, there is a Santa Claus spinner here.

The fiber is something Big Alice sent me from Blue Moon, in (I believe) the Farmhouse colorway. I think it would be a lovely thing to spin, but mine is a little...used. (Rode hard and put away wet, actually.) It was the victim of a dog who didn't get to go on vacation and hence decided the rules were out the window, and the basket of fiber she'd ignored for years was now fair game. o.0 At the time, I didn't know which one it was, but now, given the color of the dog hairs happily entwined with the sheep hairs, I'm pretty sure I know the culprit.



She didn't actually ruin it - based on the condition of the fiber, the even distribution of the hairs, and what I saw her do with that one skein of acrylic, I think she spread it out and rolled around in it, so it's kinda matted.

It still spins pretty nicely, though. I imagine if Fluffy hadn't added her special touch, it would be fantastic.


Craptastic photo, bad background, pretty accurate color.

This is what I did much of yesterday:


Not shown: the beer on the table next to me, and the two-kiddie-crocs'-worth of sand that later ended up on the recliner. (Seriously, how can it not bother him to run around with a pound of sand in each shoe?)



Also possibly lost: my sanity. Yesterday whilst watching TV, a commercial for High School Musical 3 came on, and Bug instantly started dancing (which was strange because he was kinda reclining on a pillow on the couch). I am torn. If I buy HSM, 1, 2 or 3 (or otherwise own it or allow it in my house, thankyouverymuch peanut gallery) I will either kill myself, my family, or a group of random strangers on the street, just to make it stop. (Note to readers: No, I really won't.) If I don't, I won't get to see what might be the most hilarious toddler dance number ever, courtesy of my kid and his apparently uncontrollable twitching to that music. But seriously, I want to smack that Efron kid and that Tisdale girl (and kill myself that I even knew their names) whenever I see them. If I had to be in the house with a whole movie with them in it, it might be too hard to handle. The voices in my head might actually win...

Easily entertained

I set up for the sock club yesterday. Leaving aside the issue of how sad my memory is that by the time I finished wrapping these, I'd forgotten what was what (and in some cases, what I'd selected at all), how crazy is it that I'm so excited for it to be March 1 so I can give myself a surprise gift that I chose from items I already had? I mean really.

I am also entertained by the fact that it looks like I went crazy at the butcher shop.



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Check it out! Tucson got three feet of snow on Tuesday morning!



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When I was complaining about my bread fail, several of you suggested my yeast was old because it didn't rise. What I failed to explain (bread-fail-explanation fail!) was that it rose quite nicely when I first mixed the dough, and when I went to hack off a piece, it fell quite dramatically and never rose again. While that may also be a symptom of old yeast - domestic goddess I am not, so I dunno - it did at least rise SOME. I will be getting some fresh yeast anyway, just to make sure, but I think the fail was mine and not the yeast's.

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Look, knitting!



Charades, done toe-up, with Wendy's Slip Stitch Gusset heel (PDF).
Started mumblemumble, finished 2/10/09
Yarn was some prototype Dizzy Blonde in the prototype Jenla colorway. (I think the Dizzy Blonde told me the current Jenla colorway is lighter.)
Verdict: Love. I put them on to take the photo and didn't take them off. The Charade stitch pattern makes for less stretchiness than I'm used to, so keep that in mind if you're going to make these, but they're lovely, warm, snuggly, fit just right (despite the fact that they're two different sizes o.0) and I'm so thrilled to BE DONE WITH THEM.

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My kid thinks I'm weird. Amazing how astute the little buggers are, no?

Bread fail, stoned children, and an ode to the letter K

I think I am the only person in the world (seriously, it's even in Finland) who hosed my loaf of 5-minute artisan bread. (I think it was too hot in my kitchen, and I left it out too long.) My grapefruit sized loaf remained grapefruit sized even after baking, but I ate it anyway and it was DE. LISH. US. Seriously, must do it again. (And it was dense as all get out, and I think I gained four pounds from eating my one-pound loaf. And I don't care.)

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No, not my stoned children, and really, he was legally stoned by the oral surgeon. Remind me to bring a video camera to my kids' health appointments from now on.



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Cookie (do I really need to link to her anymore? you guys know Cookie.) gave me the letter K to list ten things I love.

1. Knitting
2. Knitting lace
3. Knitting socks
4. Knitting sweaters
5. Knitting hats
6. Knitting wool
7. Knitting silk
8. Knitting alpaca
9. Knitting cotton
10. Knitting buddies

What, too easy? (You would be saddened to know how long it took me to realize, hey, KNITTING starts with K...)

Okay, the real list.

1. Knitting (duh)
2. Key lime pie
3. Koalas
4. Kayaking (seriously, I need a lake)
5. That you can attend KNIT school
6. Kissing
7. Karma (only when the bad stuff isn't aimed at me!)
8. My kids (OMG that took an embarrasingly long time to come up with)
9. Kauai (must go back)
10. Knitting (cuz damn, I couldn't come up with anything else!)

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I'm playing the sock-club-from-stash game, starting on the first of March (hence, only doing ten). I have nine pattern/yarn combos picked out, and the tenth yarn. What pattern would you suggest for this?
ETA: nevermind!

A bit of crap, a little hate, and some Warm for Joan

First, the Warm.


(This was days ago - it's actually cool, gray and rainy today, which I love - will mean some fantastic allergies wildflowers for Joan.)

Second, the Hate.

I have discovered that I can EITHER have a life, or be caught up on the laundry, but not both.

(I said it was only a little bit.)

Third, the crap. (It's not really crap, most of it is awesome, but I'm tired of saying "Hey, I have some random stuff for you.")

Item 3.1 - Opal is way extra talented and I gots the goods, yo. (Ooh ooh, when I looked up her shop to link, I see she's having a sale!)


My photography does not do it justice. It's the perfect length, weight, sparkle, and it matches my earrings, though not the shirt I was wearing.

Item 3.2 - The other day, I went shopping at Ross, and when I stepped in the door, it was suddenly 1987. Sade was playing, and I was looking through such gems as these. Click for embiggenation, if you dare.


If you can't tell, the blue one has a tie painted on it, with a faux vest that says Rock and Roll. The white and black one is self ... (what did we call that, belted? tied?) with a plastic t-shirt ring off to one side.

Item 3.3 - Hey Cookie, I'm watching you.


And also, yes, I'm wearing neon orange eye shadow. And I'm rocking it.

Item 3.4 - I spend way too much time on YouTube these days. At least I haven't resorted to MAKING gems like these. Forget it. I can't even inflict this damage on you as a joke. Know that there are people out there with more free time, more access to bad music and lolcats, and less care for the rest of humanity than I have.

Item 3.5 - But I could watch this every freaking day and still laugh.



Item 3.6 - I will probably continue to embed videos in my posts until I get to the end of YouTube. And Vimeo.

Item 3.7 - Squishy sent me this (to show me the bridesmaid dress I will be wearing to her Texas Cheerleader Wedding) and it's too horrid not to share, point, and laugh. (As far as I can tell from various urban dictionaries, the use of which forever dooms me to geekdom, a chav is a white trash, gang banger wannabe, particularly one who leaves the education system and enters the welfare system at a young age. And a caravan is an RV.) I kinda wonder how the bride felt being interviewed for the "Outer Limits Tacky" article - if she took the "they're just jealous, cuz it was awesome" attitude, I might love her just a little.

Item 3.8 - I have actually been knitting a bit, and might soon have a looooong overdue FO.

love and hate.

Things I love:

• That my kid saw the ice cream truck at the park the other day and shouted, "Look Mama! The Song Truck!" and continued to call it that even after Daddy bought him ice cream from the window.


• That the little battery-powered train ride that goes around the pond at the park is Bug's idea of high-living.


• The way Squeak pops off after he's finished nursing, all milk-drunk, eyes rolling back in his head, milk dribbling from the corner of his mouth.


• Taking advantage of the weather and the lack of responsibility to enjoy myself.
  
  
  
  
• That when he's offered a gum ball from the box, Bug spends a good several minutes selecting the right color, going so far as to almost bite into one before he changes his mind and grabs a different one.


• Velvety purple petunias.
  


• Jackie Chan movies.


• February in Tucson.


• That people have no compunction about making fun of people who behave badly. (Warning, video NSFW, though the article is) I kinda want that on my iPod.


• That after six tries, I believe the heel on my second La Charade is done properly and at least resembles what I did on the first one. (Notes would have been handy.)


• That Squeak is finally starting to gurgle and coo like a happy baby, instead of alternating between "I'm having a giant poop" grunting, crying, and utter silence.


• As much as I love Bug and Squeak, the DH had his nethers snipped yesterday and I will be pregnant no more.


• The ribbon thing. Anyone know where I can learn this? (Note to Squishy: I'm wearing those teal/black hot pant things to your wedding.) (Prolly NSFW, but what do I care about that?)
  
  


• That when that song started playing, Squeak grinned and cooed.


• Somewhere a fun office environment exists (even if it's not *quite* this fun) and there are people who like their jobs. And I want to meet the SILF guy. And maybe steal his t-shirt.
  
  
  Lip Dub - Flagpole Sitta by Harvey Danger from amandalynferri on Vimeo.(I know this is old, but it gives me hope.)


• This idea. I am too late for January, and I will use February to finish up some SIPs (that's socks-in-progress, y'all) and take my time to arrange for ten packages for the rest of the year.

Things I hate:

Um, I can't think of anything right now.

It's February!

Which means I should have started with the Joan-warming pictures YESTERDAY! I have an excuse, though. My punk-ass brother got married on Saturday, and there were more family things on Sunday, and then I napped. (Sorry, Joan.)



My dad was the best man. (Joan, please note these photos were outside. And I was wishing for a fan.) My little man was the ring bearer, or would have been if a) they had remembered to buy a pillow and fake rings, and b) he had consented to walk down the aisle to Grampa instead of burying his face in my shoulder. (Note the green grass behind him.)



The Bug took over the camera then. It was for the best - he fell asleep on the 10 minute drive to the venue and had to be woken up. He was NOT happy. I sat him in Squeak's stroller and he snapped away most of the night. He would have gotten some good photos later in the evening, if he hadn't managed to smear pizza grease (from the kiddie meal) on the lens of my camera. Sigh. He didn't do too bad, given that he aims the camera by holding the digital screen, instead of the little viewfinder lens, up to his eye.)



My new SIL is fantastic, but I just gotta ask - who told my punk-ass brother he could grow up into such a cool guy? Damn.

What day is this?

Cuz I have not the foggiest notion.
Yesterday was a stellar day, folks. (Looking up, I see yesterday was Monday. Another reason to love forced retirement - when was the last time YOU had a good Monday at work? I certainly never did.) Yesterday I took Squeak to the doctor to check his recovery progress and my beloved pediatrician said his condition showed "remarkable improvement" and told me to go away until my next well-baby check up. I puttered on the computer, I tidied the kitchen and the living areas of the house, I planted flowers, I sat outside and knit with my Squeak.



It's hard to tell, but he's holding my knitting - that's the first photo of my progress on Mary Jane, which has been chugging along slowly for the better part of this month. (Since shortly after this post, in fact.) I'm using the gold soy yarn, and knitting top down. I am thisclose to putting the sleeves on waste yarn, which means each row is about 400 stitches long and takes about half an hour at least. The body, when I finally get to it, will simply fly, I think.

The weekend looked much like this:



That's our back yard, which DH spent much time cleaning. (I only pointed out once that it wouldn't take all weekend plus if he did it more often than once a year. Look at me! A model of restraint.) That's the Bug revelling in the ability to see the dirt and dig in it, instead of playing in dead leaves, sticks, and destroyed toys. That's the Bug wearing a sleeveless shirt outside in January and being perfectly comfortable.

In other news, I found this interesting little website, walkscore.com. It rates the neighborhood around an address in terms of "walkability", which I believe depends on the number of goods and services that can be had within a reasonable walk. It also serves to show one's prejudices when it comes to walking. When my cousin lived in Santa Monica and I'd visit, we'd walk everywhere. It was a mile to the beach and less than that to grocery stores, restaurants, shops and movie theaters. Here in my neighborhood, there is no beach (alas) but it's still less than a mile to grocery stores, restaurants, shops and movie theaters. (Okay, it's a little further to the theater, but not by much.) And yet, it feels like it might as well be 20 miles away for all I think about walking to any of those things. A few years ago I noticed (as I was driving by, natch) my neighbors walking to the mall at Christmas time. The mall that is about 1.3 miles from our houses - the mall that would require parking ALMOST that far away at Christmas time - and I thought they were nuts. But are they really? This whole time have I been holding on to the myth that out in the west a car is NECESSARY in life to get anywhere, when in reality I rarely go farther than 2 miles from my home in any one trip anyway?



Years ago I remember my father commenting, upon seeing a young woman pushing a stroller along the road in Phoenix, how sad it was that "young people today" have babies before they were financially ready. I am starting to see that I took away from that single comment the idea that walking was for poor people and that she must have been poor, instead of either out walking her kid for enjoyment, or making an environmental choice, or any other number of reasons. (I'm pretty sure that was how my dad meant for me to interpret it.) In the past if the family walked to a restaurant or the drug store, I'd feel all self-congratulatory and smug because I'd done something "green" and "exercise-y". I'm coming to the conclusion (slowly, cuz dammit I loves me some misconceptions) that I should in fact feel slightly ashamed when I DON'T walk to these places.

And now that I have finished navel-gazing, I will leave you with a photo from Friday's doctor visit - Squeak had a diaper blowout (no, there's no picture of that, I have SOME standards) and "got" his blankie, so the nurse gave me a bag to put it in for the ride home. I am DEEPLY entertained by her selection.

It's a good thing I don't have to work on Monday

Cuz if I did I'd have to call in kid-sick.
Sigh.
Squeak has a cold. One of the nasty ones that are relatively harmless in children over a year, but ugly in babies. I thought it was croup but he struggled breathing so much yesterday morning that I went to the pediatrician anyway. It was only due to the fact that our ped is my friend that Squeak isn't actually hospitalized right now - it's RSV season, and my boy has himself a case of it. My ped considers me a rational and intelligent human being (comments from the peanut gallery notwithstanding) so he presecribed a nebulizer and the appropriate drugs and I get to treat my little beast at home. (They even helped me get one no-cost since my COBRA hasn't kicked in and word on the street is that reimbursement is a bitch.)



(That totally looks worse than it is, I swear.) It's only been a day but he's breathing a little easier with the treatments, and sleeping and eating better. (Oh how I hate these things that have to run their course and can't be cured with meds.)
Ironically, I had one of those mask and nebulizer setups as a child due to raging asthma, and that first whiff of albuterol mist gave me a serious flashback...

Anyway, it's Saturday, and I have a sky. Since Bug is the only one in the family who really gives a rat's tuke that it's Saturday, I'm impressed that just this once I got it right.



(I'm not gloating, Lene, I swear.)

I could get used to this

I'm kinda liking the idea that I don't have to go back to that particular place. (I found out recently that I'm actually not allowed to.) I cleaned out my desk last night and brought home all the detritus of six and a half years of my life at that place, and now I'm free of it. The DH is of the opinion that we can make do without my paycheck for a while, so currently I'm coasting, and I'm rather enjoying it. It's astounding, though, how my mornings disappear. BS (Before Squeak) I woke up fairly early, so my mornings were as long as my afternoons. Now, I don't get around to showering and breakfast until 10 or 10:30, and damn, then it's lunchtime, and before I know it, it's time to pick up the Bug and have dinner.

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Attention, knitbloggers who live in warm climates, and knitbloggers who live in damn cold places but who have pictures of summer stashed somewhere: it's about time for the annual Warming Joan photo project. Start collecting photos of warmth, flowers, people in shorts, etc. Pick a day and post something that will warm Joan up despite the howling gales outside her windows, or post every day, until the snow melts and her garden starts bringing on the green again! (I'll start posting them on February 1, but you can start earlier iffin you wanna.)

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Imbrium reminded me about Jonathan Coulton the other day. I am ashamed to say I'd forgotten. Some of my favorites, romantic ballads all:

Skullcrusher Mountain
I Crush Everything
The Town Crotch
Baby Got Back
Re Your Brains

Do go to each page and play them - you won't be sorry. (If there's not a link at the top to play the song, click the Download the MP3 link and it will play.)

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Since I'm saving my flowers and park photos for next week, here are some others. First, you know you wish you were me.



Custom-created just for me by the talented Opal. It's quite possible I will never take them off. Sent with some sweet little stitch markers and some chocolate that got opened almost as fast as the earrings-package did. (I had to - when I started opening the package, Bug came over and said, "What is that present for me?" Heh. I had to share.)


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AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!


Say what now?


Hey Aunt Cookie...

Meh.

The DH has been gone the last few days, driving his beloved truck north to his beloved daughter, who bought it and now I have one less beloved payment. He will be home tomorrow, and there's a chance I will survive his absence. (Yeah, I know women do the single motherhood thing all the time, successfully, and yeah, some guys too, but DAMN it's hard to go from doing almost nothing to doing it all.) I went to McDonald's playland, where the Bug announced, "I can't play here, because I can't play with girls." o.0 Then we went to the ice cream store (cuz Mama ate all the frosting in the house).


Since he didn't run himself into a long nap at McDonald's, I sucked it up and GASP went to the park. Bug took it easy on me and didn't run off like a maniac. (He did that once the other day, headed toward the pond, and when I started to run after him, the milk factories did what they are wont to do when I run without a sports bra, and the DH nearly split in two from laughing.) Happily the three little hoodlums (all of five years old each) didn't pick Bug when they decided to beat up a kid, and instead picked another kid whose mother should have thrashed the crap out of all three of them, since their own mother did nothing but continue to pick the grass off her sweater. (There's something wrong with a world when the kid who gets hit has to go home and the kids who did the hitting continue to play.)

Today, I actually COOKED LUNCH. And planned to COOK DINNER, including CUTTING UP RAW CHICKEN. These events are rare enough that they really should have little fireworks behind the text or something, but I am too lazy to look up how to do that. I went to the grocery store, people. And I didn't die! (Don't tell DH, he'll want me to go more often than once a year.) Also, remind me that if I want a big fat chocolate bar or some ridiculous brownie thing (or more frosting) I should prolly not go to the health food store. Dammit.

Now I might go knit. Or maybe I will go lay down somewhere and stare at the wall. Or maybe I will go find out why my kid is naked.

It's Cookie's Birthday!

She knits, she rants, she knits some more, she sends lovely gifts and virtual hugs and outs friends on their birthdays. I couldn't wish for a better friend. Go now and wish her a happy one!

I remember you...

"...didn't you used to blog once upon a time?"

Yeah, so I disappeared for a bit. (ETA: interesting - I thought it had been much longer since I'd blogged.) I have all sorts of excuses, but the main two reasons are that the router died so I have to use DH's computer (and crappy monitor and standard keyboard) instead of my own (with its fantastic monitor and ergo keyboard) to access the internet. Plus I have to wait until he's not "working". The other reason is that I have no concept of days or times anymore. I actually have to look at the monitor to determine what day of the week it is. Today I woke up, dragged my overtired self out of bed and into the shower, got dressed in actual matching clothes, put on MAKEUP, dragged the baby to the doctor and said, "I dunno what time our appointment is, but I think it's 9am." She said, "No, it's 9:45. On Thursday."
Le sigh.
Double le sigh because I got laid off today so Thursday I have no health insurance, but I had it today.
Le sigh.
Le sigh.
Happily, DH seems to have jumped through all the Evel Knievel style hoops his old company set forth for him, and ostensibly has his first check on the way. Thank goodness, because I immediately searched the job boards and there are NO jobs in my field in my town. Alas. Or not really, cuz I didn't like my job. Wish I knew what else I was qualified to do.
Due to that fantabulous turn of events and some other crappy stuff that happened to my local knitbuddies, we are taking knit night to On The Border for guacamole and margaritas. I do not expect this to help me with the whole what-day-is-it thing.

an embarrassment of riches

Woo, I got a package in the mail yesterday, from the Yarn Fairy! She doesn't call herself that, but who else would have found this adorable card?



And the inside:



I'm still LMAO about it, actually.
It brought friends, too.



Ground up babies and silky wool. Woo, I'm one of the cool kids now! Not pictured, the maple candies and the fudge, cuz, well, we ate it. (Not all of it, but it's much less photogenic now.)

bu-kawk!

Yes, I am a big chicken. Somewhere back in time I made this statement about ripping out what wasn't finished by the end of the year. Yeah, not gonna do that. It was a welcome push to get some things done, though, and it did help me to get a few things off my psyche. The horrid lace and sonnet were ripped, Haiku was finished, and .... hmmm, a couple other things I can't quite recall at this point. I made some progress on the other things I had going, I knit scarves for The Aunts, I enjoyed myself. Now my plan is to not beat myself up about having those WIPs. When the time comes that I can't think of what I want to knit, I'll look at my little list and pull something out. Or I'll start something new. Or whatever I feel like. I'm done feeling guilty about my fun hobbies.
Along those lines, I started something new. (Linden? What Linden?) My gauge is already 3 st/4 in off from my gauge swatch, but I think it will be fixable in the pattern without having to rip what I've already done. (Fingers crossed.)

Pretend there's a picture here - I'm too lazy to go take one.

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Noob isn't Noob anymore, he's Squeaker. Squeak for short. Blame the DH for that one, but it fits.

For those of you who are missing your Bug fix (you can't fool me, I know you come here just to see kid photos and hear poopy stories and that sort of parental crap) here is a picture. He's been anti-photo lately, unless he's the one taking the photo, so he was "hiding" behind the light, but you get the gist. I can't stand it how this three year old suddenly looks like a teenager sometimes. (But then he got all excited about the stingrays on Planet Earth that we were watching together and gave me a big hug, so he's not fully morphed into a teen yet.

In the mood to start something.

But first, I am sucktastic because I forgot to blog about La's birthday (which was last Sunday) until JUST NOW. (Okay, that's not true. I remembered plenty of times, but I was either in the car, nursing a wee babe, or there were teenagers using my computer.)
HAPPY BIRTHDAY LA! (Go now, wish her a happy birthday and tell her to post more cuz we miss her.)

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I had thought that I was going to have my new year's knitting resolution be along the lines of ignoring WIPs, a la Joan, and that when a new project captured my fancy I was just going to GO for it. In fact, I was so wired about this idea that I decided to cast on something new on 1/1. I have 2700 yds (which seems like a lot, so let's call it half that) of sport weight soy chainette yarn in a dull gold, and I have 900 yds of Shine worsted (cotton/modal) in Terra Cotta that I'd originally bought to be Bombshell (I think, now that I see the yardage called for I'm starting to wonder, and it might be best in a yarn that has some memory anyway). I could do Broderie in the soy. I could find some other yarn to use for Picovoli, which I might be able to finish before my brother's wedding on the 31st. Maybe Mary Jane, sans boob-flattening stripe across bust? I could take my bit of Christmas money and go buy a whole whack of Silky Wool and knit something else entirely, but here's my problem. Nothing is calling to me. Help a girl out?

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I'm wearing my pre-pregnancy jeans today, thanks to the stomach flu and the breastfeeding. They aren't comfy, but they're buttoned. :-D

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I think my little men look alike at comparable ages.

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DH did indeed manage to get the floor in, and since the only one member of the couple in question came for Christmas Eve, we didn't have to go buy a new bed. He finished the floor with a whole day to spare, and I think he did a smashing job, don't you?



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Finally, our trees are changing.