Hi, you guys, it would be really easy to write a moan-y hand-wring-y blog post about workload tonight, but how about if we do some counting of blessings instead?
I am reading Treasure Island to Stella and sometimes Pete, and it is such a good yarn.
The weekend before last we made a family trip to the snow zone, and on the way home we were playing B is for Botticelli* as we always do on Gladly road trips. I was Ben Gunn during one of our rounds (Elwood's gotcha question: Are you, perhaps, very fond of CHEESE?!) Afterward it occurred to me that I hadn't read Treasure Island aloud in ages -- it's probably been nine years. So I am addressing the Treasure Island situation pronto, because that's practically a children's literature emergency.
*Huh, I am sure that somewhere in my archives I have posts about B is for Botticelli, our favorite car game, but a Google site search suggests that those posts exist only in my imagination. Maybe, Google says, I would like to remember the time I attempted to dispose of an organ discreetly and wound up with conspicuous bloodstains splashed across my sidewalk. Or MAYBE NOT, Google.
While I read I am knitting away on the positively bananas laceweight sweater I started in the summer of 2016 after a couple of years of trying to work up the nerve to cast on. I am not usually cowed by a knitting project but this is no ordinary knitting project. Earlier this week I was looking at my Ravelry entry and thinking, "Huh, maybe my initial difficulty rating is higher than it needs to be," but then I started the edging. I love a good knitted-on edging like nobody's business -- it's like equal parts geometry and magic -- but this particular knitted-on edging is a big pain in the behind. OH WAIT, bright spots only in this post. It's a beautiful pain in the behind that keeps my brain firing on all cylinders -- how about that? Also I have become fairly blasé about grafting in pattern, which used to feel like alchemy on an tightrope.
Slowly, slowly, I am working my way down the List of Lasts. Today I gave the last lecture in my grad class; the rest is all lab assignments and a guest lecturer talking about topics outside my area of expertise.
This weekend I am covering a 10K course with one of my college roommates. I am not going to be moving very quickly, but I'm going to finish the race and collect my shirt. And see my friend, which is really the point.
Okay, my friends, I am going to finish the rosary and start the dishwasher and set up the coffee and zip off to bed. The end.