You know that old saying, “First the man takes a drink, then the drink takes a drink, then the drink takes a man”? I think there must be some sort of ABJD* equivalent. Here I was, knitting away in blissful ignorance, and my child thinks, “I have finally figured out how to connect with Mom in ways that won’t make me break out in hives.” [Poor dear, she is obscenely allergic to wool.]
Some people have visions of sugarplums dancing in their heads. Me? I have increasing numbers of *Asian Ball-Jointed Dolls dancing in mine. While washing my latte cup at work [lest you think I have fallen off the wagon and am consuming lattes leftte and rightte, I use mine for cereal, soup, and the occasional vat of hot chocolate], I had a sudden image of how cute it would be to pose a Dream Of Baby like Arie in the cup, as if she were a teacup poodle or had fallen in tush-over-teakettle. Little flailing hands and feet, a froth of hemstitched petticoats (I don’t care much for her default costume, except for the color) and that distinctively astonished expression she wears.
I like all three of the horoscope-inspired babies. I think Libra’s face is my favorite; she reminds me of Middlest when she was little. Give Libra grey eyes and dark brown hair with the merest hint of wave at the ends, and there’s my baby. The little ABJD dolls don’t do much for me as a rule, but I like these three.
However, I don’t think I have the energy to deal with triplets, human or otherwise. Second-sock syndrome is bad enough. Can you imagine sixth-sock syndrome???
I will want to make a trip over to Kay Fabrics in Richardson; they’re the only people I know who stock fine cotton batiste and handkerchief linen, and they have the best local selection of Ultrasuede. I have always wanted to learn the techniques of French hand-sewing; dolly-scale may very well be the way to go. I have that tiny spade-headed seam presser which my sister gave me when I was quilting as madly as I am presently knitting. It would be perfect for pressing hand-rolled hems and entredeux, also for spiffing up rumpled petticoats and the like.
Speaking of quilting, I am thinking that my Cuprit needs a small quilt to welcome her when she arrives. I need to have Middlest ask her friend Jared how high his Beryl can reach; a quilt ought to be at least that long. I have all manner of small bits of fabric leftover from the family quilting frenzy of a few years ago. I could make a Trip Around the World quilt top fairly quickly and tie it off with beads or miniature buttons at the intersections. Or a Rail Fence. Or I could do an Amish-inspired quilt; that would be even faster.
Can you tell that I had lots of time to think and type yesterday? Not much time for knitting or for sewing things together.
- 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!