Kevin Bacon is 50???

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!]