Nasty little beast. I woke up at deep-dark-thirty this morning (a little before 3:00), as I had gone to bed early last night (9:45, yes I know that sounds late to those of you who have seen me wilt at 8:03 at Knit Night). I was lying there, minding my own business, thinking about what a nice day off I had yesterday, how much I got accomplished chez Ravelled, the conversations I had enjoyed, etc., and I felt that funny pre-cramp I sometimes get. The one that says, “No fast moves, and don’t even think about pointing your toe.”
So I lay there awhile longer and ruminated, and then I rolled onto my side, and oh holy cow! Do you have any idea how hard it is to turn off a CPAP when your hand has suddenly gone to sleep and your leg is shrieking childbirth words?
I’m up, I’m up. I’ve had a bowl of granola with a muscular-sanity-restoring banana sliced up into it, and my calf is only a little tender.
I nearly finished the last strip on my sister’s cowl. I’m about to put in a movie and head over to the couch. I may end up frogging the first two strips and redoing them at this narrower width. I think I have two and a half repeats to go, and I either just-will or just-won’t have enough yarn to get there without frogging.
And that’s my excitement for the day!
Blessing is going to work with me. My work-friends want to meet her, as do some of my friends at Knit Night. She is all dressed up and ready to go, unlike me. I have time; couch and knitting, here I come!
- Five 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!