You know, I’ve discovered something about myself of which I am not proud. I am a sloooooow learner. I’ve started my list. You know, that list of three items, 2 of which I’m already working on because knitting is going abominably slow for me at the moment? It has 57 items on it, and I’m only half done. Now, we watch Sesame Street quite a bit in this house and Cookie Monster has impressed upon me that 57 is slightly larger than three.
Included in this list are socks (bwhahaha, I know right? I have yet to get over my fred flinstone syndrome and even though mike claims to love me, he refuses to have the piddly little surgery that would make this work.) Gorgeous Norwegian mittens, the color work is amazing and has seahorses on them. But, how often am I going to wear mittens in Orlando?There are sweaters, leggings, a dress for me and two for peanut. Plus, numerous shawls, wraps and hats. I also have an owl baby blanket of my own design on the list.
Even though, I am slow to learn to count, it occurs to me that 57 is more than another thing; The number of weeks in the year. I think that the poor knitter in me has been neglected to the point of delusional starvation. She has forgotten that sadly I have other things to do in my life besides knit. I try to ignore the screams of my naked starving family, but man they are loud.
Also, every time I try to make something for myself, the small fry claims it. Case in point, the therapy blanket. It has a raspberryish pink tone, therefore it is hers. I grabbed some sashay while it wa on sale, and it has sparkles, so it is hers. I have fallen of my yarn diet. it’s more fun than falling of a food diet, since it doesn’t involve any situps, just explanations and wildly improbable tales.
Oh almost forgot, Saturday marked the fifth year anniversary since the most patient, and yarn tolerant man I know signed on for a life full of craziness and servitude. Love you babe.