Irn Bru? P.U.!

One more thing to cross off my bucket list, that I don’t remember putting on there.

Several years ago, before I became Beloved’s beloved, his ward had a missionary from Scotland (because even the most hard-shell traditional Christians just might listen to an elder with a brogue), and when Beloved and his eldest traveled to Scotland, they tried something called Irn Bru, which is something of a national treasure Across the Pond. It’s pronounced iron brew.

Squishy found some locally at an anglophile store in or around Dallas. He and Mel brought us a couple of bottles last night. I brought one to work this morning, leaving the other for Beloved’s enjoyment. We had the monthly staff meeting this morning, and sometimes those run long, and sometimes they run long after a night in which sleep has run short.

I have no idea how the quantity of caffeine in Irn Bru stacks up against that in my guilty pleasure, Cherry Coke, but I suspect it is geometrically diabolically greater. I also suspect I will have zero difficulty remaining awake on the drive home. [Edited to add: I was correct.] Or after dinner. [Haven’t had it yet but am still quite lively.] Or, possibly, after I pull the covers over my head tonight. [Oh dear!]

Irn Bru is suspiciously orange. It would make orange Jello feel inadequate. It might even be brighter than day-glow poster board! I nursed a cup all afternoon, and there was still about three-fourths of a cup left in my glass when I was ready to head home. I unrepentantly poured it down the drain. I brought the mostly-full bottle home with me and stuffed it into the outside fridge, because our inside fridge is singing Mimi’s death aria from La Bohème and is awaiting a visit from the appliance repairman on Saturday afternoon, which I suspect is a fiendish plot to keep me from buying yarn for the next project.

My Classic Lines Cardigan is done. All stitched up. I have yet to steam it, but I tried it on, that wonderfully scary moment when you find out if your gauge swatch (assuming you made one, which I did) was wildly off or if your yarn is a pathological liar that has been waiting patiently two and a half months to erupt into hysterical laughter.

It fits. Now for the temperature outside to slide consistently downward so I can wear it.

I’ve printed off one possibility for my next project: Color Affection, which is not the rectangle I thought it was, but a long and lovely crescent written for either fingering or laceweight yarn. My other option is something from Knit, Swirl.

I spent an hour or so this morning, poring through my copy of the latter while trying not to drool on the pages. There are several versions of it which use both laceweight and a heavier yarn. I may have finally found the right project for my turquoise/brown/etc. handpainted silk birthday yarn from several years back. I have started and frogged two or three projects. Right now the yarn is sulking in my studio.

If I go with Color Affection, I will take my one skein of Jitterbug in pink/grey/lavender(ish) that refuses to become a pair of socks, and see if I can score two greys to mix with it and make it happy to be out of the skein. I would hate to think that this skein is one of those that is never going to be pretty, all knitted-up. It called my name so sweetly, back in 2009 or 2010.