Listen. I've been working like a dog. I'm hot and I'm cranky and I'm sore and I'm blistered. I've been fighting with that frickin' rock-hard clay soil and fighting with my gardening arch-enemy, the mighty horsetail, and did I mention carpenter ants in my office again? I'm ..... well, I'm
just about done in. David yelled at me from the house, "Get in here this instant. It doesn't have to be all done today, and you're gonna make yourself SICK." I told him to shut up and bring me a glass of ice water. Then I was stupid enough to go for a nine-mile bike ride with Abigail. This was all yesterday. Rinse and repeat for today, sans the bike ride. I do know where to draw the line.
So I can hardly type and I don't even have the energy to write, but I'm doing it for you, my dear reader. For you, because I love you. But you might want to cover your eyes now, because I have succeeded in creating a scarf that reminds me of nothing more than it reminds me of haggis. Sorry, dear Scottish lovers of haggis. Truth be told, I ate haggis while in London on Robert Burns Day, and liked it. I gained myself great currency with my British friends then, I tell you. Really, the thought of it is worse than the eating of it. But still. The thought of it is pretty bad.
I have done my motherly duty and got my daughter hooked on Lost. And while we were watching Disc 1 last night, I had not the energy to do anything but garter stitch on big needles. I also was hoping to start cleaning up some of that charity stash that is all over the floor of the family room. Well, the only positive thing I can say about it is it's warm. Maybe Mongolians have a different color sense, so they won't think it's so hideous? Wishful thinking, that right there.
Now I must go have my second shower of the day, cook burgers on the grill, to serve with fresh asparagus, lettuce, spinach and dandelion greens. (And that makes all the pain worth it.) And then I will be watching Disc 2 and knitting more haggis.