I finished the Green Beanie for the coming babe and that meant I was out of knitting except for the Fiddlehead sock which I wasn't in the mood to knit (the needles and yarn are so skinny it's hard to see progress and I'm a real product knitter and only a bit of a process knitter) and then I was consolidating my knitting sprawl in the living room so that Durwood's friend wouldn't think we'd been invaded and when I tossed a skein of sock yarn into the basket of onesie projects that lives under the coffee table, why, there was the Brown Sheep yarn with needles and the pattern to make some gloves. For me. (I'm all about selfish knitting.) So of course I took them to work and cast on the first cuff. It's cables, and cables are on my "get better at this in 2013" list, which means I need to get a move on since two weeks from today is New Year's Eve. (I know, it shocked me too.) So in between Christmas- and trip-shopping customers I knitted the cuff and made it a tiny bit into the hand of the first glove. (I really like how shiny the black wool is but it's a bear to knit without a high intensity light with these old eyes.) Then last night after supper I got out different yarn and different needles to cast on a little stealth project that has me slightly confused but I'll manage. I can always frog what I did and start over. And there's another hat (or two, maybe three) that I want to knit for the baby. I have plenty of yarn and needles, I need more hands.
It snowed again. Not a lot, just normal snowed, so I'm going to unearth my snowshoes from the basement and give myself a good workout when I take Porter out walking in a hour or so. I love my snowshoes, they might be close to the best hundred bucks I've ever spent. For a non-diving gadget.
In other yarny news, I put out both of the crocheted elves that DD and I made and this year they please me no end. Abercrombie is the red and green one by the clock and Vincent is the Caribbean colored one under the tree. I think they have a lot of personality, don't you? December 17--Caravaggio, The Musicians. They were just boys, Larisa could tell by the high sweetness of their voices. She wondered if they could read music or if they learned songs by ear and repetition. None of them could be fifteen, she didn't think any of them shaved but it was obvious that every one of them thought he was a lady's man. It was pretty hard to swagger when you had no beard and your voice hadn't broken but they managed, none more than the lute player. He was the one with the sensuous mouth and sleepy gray eyes. Not that she really noticed, it's just that she was a very observant person. Are you done Christmas shopping? I found something interesting online yesterday so I'm gathering info from my kids and in-law kids so I can order some. D'you think they'll come in time? Yeah, I'm not sure either but I'm going to try. It's an odd year, the coming baby, OUR coming baby is looming much larger in my mind than Jesus' birthday this year. Christmas comes and goes but the first grandchild's arrival is a once in a lifetime event. I'm savoring. --Barbara