I think you are going to be getting a fairly secular post today. I’ve shared links to a lot of things that would make you think, or make you cry, or both, in recent posts. I took a lot of notes during both sessions of General Conference yesterday and am anticipating more of the same later today. Can’t wait for next month’s issue of the Ensign to come out with the addresses transcribed into written form (they will be available later this week on lds.org).
I am loving this audiobook (Anansi Boys, by Neil Gaiman). He has some interesting things to say about family dynamics, personal integrity and accountability, and the importance of considering carefully the consequences of what you think you want to wish for.
I got past the visual nausea stage on the most recent doll hat and finished it late last night, or possibly early this morning. With a few more color transitions, it became marginally more attractive to me, though it is still my least-favorite of the hats I have made. I realized while I was midway through the decreases that if I had chosen paired decreases (which miter) instead of single decreases (which spiral), I could have knitted up a Noro pincushion or a pouf (footstool) for one of the dolls.
Which led me to the word tuffet, and this page. You might want to take some motion sickness medicine before attempting to read it, though the picture is rather nice. I think the description must have been written by the people who do the English translations for some of the doll websites I visit.
Anyway. I could probably knit one of these a little larger and felt it, then line it and stuff it and fasten it to a wooden base with bun feet, to wind up with something you might find in your Pottery Barn catalogue if you were approximately two feet tall.
I have, reluctantly, unsubscribed from the PB emails. (The PB catalogue has been one of my guilty pleasures since I came to work for the law firm; one of the lawyers used to leave her old catalogues in the break room.) I do not quite covet that cherry red leather Manhattan couch. I cannot afford it, but I could save for it after I am out of debt.
That would still not solve the problem of where to put said couch. It was one thing to fantasize about owning it, when I was living in an apartment and hoping to buy a (bigger) house someday. But now that I am quite content in a tiny duplex, and I have a perfectly good hand-me-down couch that may last as long as I do, there is just no good sense in daydreaming about long naps on that couch, with a flokati rug under the coffee table, and a box of Godiva chocolate covered cherries (the only ones I like) on the coffee table, and a fire in the fireplace, and Sean Connery reading aloud from one of my cookbooks at the kitchen table.
Today is also NintendoMan’s birthday. He has had some fairly disappointing birthdays in his lifetime. So yesterday I emailed him to ask what would constitute a good birthday, and to please keep it G-rated, which he did. I now have some notes and ideas for next year’s birthday, though I still have no idea what to do about this year’s.
I have always loved those years when my own birthday fell on Easter. I did not grow up having a party with guests every year, though there was always a family celebration. Two years ago the girls threw a great party for me; I had so much fun that I told them they had four years to plan the next party, for when I turn 60.
There are still bits of cheese and copious amounts of banana bread in the fridge. I think it’s time to make a dent in both. I was good when I ran to the store last night for brownie mix (to fulfill one of my service projects) and did not succumb to the blandishments of the last few, forlorn chocolate bunnies, so there will be no bunny-ear-biting for Ms. Ravelled today.
Happy Easter, everybody! Happy Birthday, NintendoMan (who does not, as yet, have blog privileges, so I guess that makes this a virtual virtual birthday greeting).
- 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!