Scroll all the way down to the end of this article. As he so famously said in Footloose, “Jump back!” I found this out how, you ask, since I rarely read a newspaper and do not subscribe to People Magazine? Well, after my post-turkey nap, I decided to wade through all the emails pertaining to knitting. Knitter’s Review led me to Jane Brocket’s book and blog, which led me to that first link.
Oye. Now I really gotta cut footloose! (I’ve subscribed to her blog, by the way. Lovely clear writing, and not only about knitting.)
What’s on my needles? I’m knitting away on a smoky purple scarf that may or may not end up being for BittyBit. Her mother informs me that the current favorite color is red [yes, I’ve blogged about that, I’m getting older, bear with me] and that she has been informed that when said Bitty turns 5, the new favorite color will be white. Good luck with that: I am not knitting anything white for a five-year-old. It took me forever to convince my mother not to give the girls white shirts for birthdays and Christmas, because we had a dirt driveway. The Bitties live in a considerably more urban neighborhood than their mother grew up in, and their parents are much better housekeepers than I ever care to be, so there’s not that issue, but still...
The Bittiest of them all is turning out to be a real charmer. He spent most of the time I was there, grinning and flirting like crazy in the arms of his aunts and cousins. I just wanted to knit, until it was time to eat. Lots to think about at the moment, vacations to plan for next year, what project I want to knit next for myself, the hoodie for Fourthborn’s Fiancé, doll stuff, Christmas stockings for Firstborn’s tribe. I can think a lot of this through while knitting away on the smoky purple scarf.
I think the glazed carrots turned out rather well. (Girls, feedback and/or suggestions are welcome.) I melted half a stick of butter in my cast-iron skillet, got about 2# of them all slippery and sassy, poured something like 3/4 of a carton of leftover chicken stock over them to simmer with about a tablespoon of fennel seeds and a tablespoon and a half of herbes de Provence, then tumped it all into my smaller crockpot to finish cooking through and transport to Secondborn’s. Oh, and a good glug, maybe a cup, of cooking grade maple syrup. They were tender, fragrant, and I don’t have all that many leftovers. I separated the carrots into one container and the jollop into another. I think I will melt down a can of cranberry jelly and mix it together and reduce it to make a glaze for a small sliced ham. This lovely cold weather puts me in the mood to cook.
I also have most of the makings for a pan of lasagna. [I have been encroaching upon the cream cheese and will need to acquire more.] That might happen this weekend, too. And I think there may well be more puttering. There are a couple of boxes in the hall that are just begging to be unpacked, and a small load to take to the thrift store, and if I get really ambitious I may start painting the hall. I would neither hold my breath, nor bet the rent, on the latter.
Mt. Washmore is piling up in my boudoir; seems like I only did that a week ago, though I know it’s been longer. But first, there is breakfast, and while the hash browns at Whataburger are murmuring my name, I think I might be sensible and fix a nice bowl of Cream of Wheat instead. Or I could take the cardboard boxes out to my recycling bin, do my grocery shopping now before Boxing Day madness begins, and hit the laundromat when it opens at 8:00. All of which would necessitate the #10 breakfast at the drive-through, because it would never do to fall asleep with my nose on the agitator, now would it?
Oh, Milo, c’mon c’mon let’s go... [Holy cow, Kenny Loggins is fixin’ to turn 62?!]
[P.S. It also wouldn’t do to log(gins) off without wishing LittleBit a happy 20th. I’m officially out of the teenager business!]
- 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!