Pride goeth before a frog.

For you muggles who just tuned in, to “frog” is to yank the needles out of your work and pull until you get back to your mistake [“rip it, rip it”] and to “tink” is to undo the stitches one at a time [T-I-N-K = K-N-I-T, backwards]. This is the purple tweed yarn that started out as a somewhat skritchy scarf. I think it wants to be a pair of bulky socks when it grows up.



Here’s where I was when I realized I had overdone the shaping on Cuprit’s sweater. It might make more sense visually if you click to embiggen.



I used some of what I learned making the Sunrise Circle Jacket, and it was a great learning experience, and I still have oodles of time before Cuprit ships. I got a great shot of the revised sweater when I came home from church; unfortunately I had scribbled people’s phone numbers on the lower half of this page when I woke up from my nap on Saturday, and those numbers were all too visible in the photo. So you’ll just have to wait awhile.

Here is a shot of Larxene [Fourthborn’s doll] sitting on a shelf at work last Friday, looking supremely bored. She might have been sulking because I wouldn’t let her help me transcribe dictation.



Or maybe because I wouldn’t share my lunch: BLT on croissant.



A little blurry, perhaps, but it didn’t affect the taste.

You might be wondering what was going on with the pumpkins, et al, this weekend. Well, it has been feeling fall-ish in the mornings, and I wanted to swap out some of the decorative items. That was the impetus. And as I looked at everything, and how little space there is to display it here in the duplex [as opposed to two apartments ago, when LittleBit and I had 1080 glorious square feet to sprawl out in], I knew it was time to pare the collection. I’m keeping this, because it was made by a neighbor of ours in the little town where I spent my first eight years. I cannot imagine how long it took her to stick on all the 3D bits.



And I’m keeping this, because I made it and because I like it. Fall is my favorite season. I always feel as if I were coming home, as the world cools off in autumn.



Mincemeat pies, hot chocolate, caramel apples, the smell of burning leaves or people’s fireplaces. Needing a sweater in the morning. Potato-leek soup in the crockpot to greet me when I get home at night.

I took the empty orange and black storage container, bought on sale after Halloween one year, and refilled it with the contents of a laundry bag that has been lurking in my closet for at least two years: all my stash yarn from Brother Stilts, who was as impressive with the crochet hook as he was with East Coast Swing. He crocheted a blanket for his king-size bed, and his work was every bit as meticulous as my own.

What? Somebody’s going to tell a guy who’s 6’5” and 275 lbs. of pure gristle that crocheting is a sissy thing to do? I don’t think so!

I just realized that the snow globe bit fits into what I thought was a tea light holder. I was going to pitch out the base, but now I think I’ll keep it as a prop for dolly pictures. The next time my hot glue gun bubbles to the surface, I’ll put Humpty Dumpty together again.