Victory From the Jaws of Defeat

Or, Every Once in Awhile I Stop Fretting and Go With the Flow.



The Florence Shawl was first visualized about this time last year. I saw myself spinning the wonderful cashmere/silk fiber, which came to be. I saw myself knitting a Faorese shoulder-shaping shawl. This came to be. I knitted and knitted. I saw myself wearing the long beautiful shawl on my Italian vacation. This is where the wheels came off. I knitted everywhere I went on that vacation, and after it was washed and blocked, it leapt back to its original dimensions. I was so bummed. I balled it up and stuffed it into the pocket of my winter coat, figuring it could hang around my neck on the winter early schlep to work. When the temperature suddenly dropped, I slapped on the thing and ventured outside.

Oh.

That's why people like cashmere. It's a nearly weightless cloud, warming without itching. Any way you throw it on, it drapes like it was arranged like that. It clings ever so delicately to whatever you're wearing, so it doesn't require repeated tossings over the shoulder. Now I let the Florence scarf cuddle around my throat most of the day, rearranging only when I want to make a new artistic statement.

Just in Time

Seeing as it's January and all, I've managed to finish two of the three projected pairs of mittens for coworkers. The third pair has not been started yet, because the colors are maroon and grey. Not uplifting. Of course it's in the sixties today, but I'm not complaining, really really really. However, if a miracle could occur that involves transforming my mud pit back into a yard, with grass, or even weeds, I'd be ever so happy. Meanwhile, I'm counting my blessings : I'm not living in Kansas, or Afghanistan.

Modeling the mittens is the charming Cracker, who spreads around more than his share of mud.

Sven's dashboard

Here is the dashboard of Sven, my Volvo, ya. (with Swedish accent)

Pride of place goes to my baby Buddha. He's on a spring so he bounces around as I drive. Only slightly less prominent are Feathers McGraw ( I think that's his name )and Sean the sheep, both of Wallace and Gromit fame.

WTF Wed, Jan. 3

All the guests are gone. Whew! Things at work are starting to slow down : the family dog is not getting run over by the family, nor is the dog eating pot pourri, chocolate, coins, anti-depressants, Tylenol, or diapers. All recent episodes in the saga of emergency veterinary medicine.

Here's some recent random photos. Jenn and daughter Ayden before the Christmas party. Bonnie Marie in her Christmas outfit, complete with jingle bell ankle bracelets. A random baby pug. And of course the lovely Rachael, in her new alpaca hat.