One of the things I love best about my family, is how much we laugh when we are together. Middlest and I faded pretty quickly at Knit Night. When I took her home, Firstborn was home from class [she is finishing up her associates’ degree]. She and Lark were dogpiling on 1BDH, and I’m not sure who was having the most fun.
He plays hockey, so dogpiling is simply a rowdy form of affection in that house, whereas when the girls were growing up it meant that somebody would get put in the penalty box, and somebody else would be getting a butterfly bandage. Dogpiles make me a little jumpy, out of habit. But I do recognize the difference between hilarity and hysteria, and I love the warmth I feel when I am in their home.
Speaking of warmth, I am inhaling the last of those excessively healthy English muffins as we speak. I am all for whole grains and dietary fiber; I also want happy tastebuds. I will not be buying more of these muffins, though I generally like anything that company bakes.
Still speaking of warmth, after turning off the alarm this morning ~ let me repeat that: after turning off the alarm this morning [I slept until it went off, for the first time in over a week] ~ I next turned off the window units and the fans overhead. Another cold front has moved through, and it is 43°F/6°C out there. Raining cats and dogs and little fishes, with side order of lightning and thunder. There must have been a lightning stroke close to here, because the house shook and a magazine and mini tart pan leaped off the kitchen counter.
They had both been looking a little depressed...
The entrelac sock swatch is nearly long enough for me to try it on and get some sense of gauge. The first sock is a pretty good fit for Middlest, and she loves it. So I guess it’s supposed to be hers. Firstborn would need a medium or a small. I hope to get to Secondborn’s tonight or tomorrow for her to try it on.
Looks as if I will be picking up at least one more ball in this colorway. I think the current swatch may be a little too big for me; I may need to try again with ten repeats instead of the original nine or the present eleven. I am getting all kinds of crazy entrelac experience with this project, and if I finish the first sock for Middlest and cast on its mate, I still have a chance of completing the February sock challenge. Everybody oohed and aahed over the first sock at Knit Night last night. I think the Entrelac Fairy has smacked several of them upside the head.
I guess I had better explain the title of this post before I log off and start foofing. Firstborn and I were sitting on Lark’s bed last night, and Middlest was sitting on the floor. I think all that estrogen had chased 1BDH out into the safety of the living room. You would never guess that Lark is not Firstborn’s I-have-the-stretch-marks child; she swallows her consonants just like Firstborn did at that age, and I have lost my secret agent decoder ring. [Along with my cell phone, my train pass, my key card for the office, and most of my marbles.]
Lark was telling a story about when she was younger and had choked on a piece of steak, and Willow had saved her. Only she called it the Heimlich Remover. We were not laughing with her. We were laughing at her.
And at another point, the three of them spontaneously burst into song. [Which, as Middlest is fond of pointing out, is far better than spontaneously bursting into flames.] One more reason I’m reluctant to have them meet Trainman and vice versa. But then he does love musicals, so maybe it would be all right. Maybe in his world [as in mine] it is perfectly normal for people to start singing and tapdancing around the room.
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!