I finished something which, as you can plainly now see, is not a Trekking sock. It is, however, a fun and wonderful Trekking mitten, and I started the second. (The colorway is 110, I believe.) This in itself is cause for celebration; am I RIGHT?!
But I also bought some fabulously sensuous, yummy yarn and some little leather buttons. Anyone have any ideas what I'm planning?
AND THAT'S NOT ALL! While I was waiting for Norton 360 to download onto the new laptop, something got into me. I grabbed that ball of Berroco Denim Silk that's been sitting on my desk for -- cripes, what is it, two years??? -- and decided that's ENOUGH OF THAT. I cast on 36 stitches and started knitting a scarf in Twin Rib. Nobody will remember (I hardly even do) that this ill-fated yarn was knitted into a Ribby Shell (yes, I see that it was indeed over two years ago!), but I ran out of yarn and it's discontinued and et cetera, et the fuck cetera. So it's been wound into cakes and has been displayed in a glass pitcher on my front hall table for lo these many months/years/whatever, except for this one cake of it that's been collecting dust on my desk. It's about time it got knitted up. Good things come to those [yarn cakes] who wait, I guess. The denim silk scarf and the mittens should look good with the CPnoH that I WILL have done by Rhinebeck. I will, I will, I will. I will.
I knitted almost alllll day. Apparently I have caught the knitting bug again.
WAIT, THERE'S MORE! I cooked a meal fit for a queen and king -- 99.9% local, too. Most of the vegetables were from my garden, of course. And ohhhh, how delectable they were. The buttercup squash grown in the compost bin was to die for, as was the vegetable melange of the day: one perfect zucchini, a few broccoli florets, some Swiss chard, some red onions, and celery, all sauteed in butter. (The celery was not from my garden, and not local, drat it. Neither was the butter -- it was Costco butter; shame on me.) The chicken legs were cooked in garlic and ginger butter -- everything local except the ginger and the butter again. Given how perfect the squash was, I'm down in the dumps that I've only got three more to eat, and they will be savored, every bite. And given how wonderful the zucchini also was, it's a real shame that the zukes were so retarded in their growth and this one plant only took hold in the last few weeks when I rescued and transplanted it. Dang.
AND IF ALL THAT WASN'T ENOUGH:
And I was informed that I am....ahem....a grandmother. (Perish that thought......right now!)
Meet Mr. Jefferies, toy Yorkie, a little guy that I am sure to adore:
ETA: OK, perhaps I got up on the wrong side of the bed, and I'm about to apologize for my attitude. But NOT. The old Harlot's thing about don't come into my living room and start being rude? Remember it?
Please rest assured that I have harped at my daughter and her boyfriend for two years that they may NOT get a puppy in a pet store. And they did NOT. Ryan did the research and he got the puppy from a reputable breeder in New Jersey. So let me put this to rest right now. But I must ask the question: Even if they had, it would be too late now, and why does anyone feel it is appropriate to come to my living room and lecture me about the issue, hm? Friends or not. It's even worse coming from friends, because you people should know me well enough to know it's not an issue. Let's just say I have some raw wounds from a recent encounter in my actual living room, so if this sounds like an overreaction, maybe it is, but I'm touchy. Where have civility and manners gone?
So shut the fuck up. OK? Done? Cripes.