That's what I'm telling myself anyway. I reread The Yarn Harlot's book, Knitting Rules!, a couple weeks ago and she went on and on (and on) about the need to swatch even though most swatches are dirty, rotten liars (she said that, not me), then I put on the Khaki Cardi that has a part-time job as a Smart Car cozy and I see her point. I am such a product knitter that I hate the thought of "wasting" that knitting by just using it to measure my gauge and then taking it out. (a product knitter wants the object of knitting, a process knitter likes the knitting more than the outcome) Pretty soon now I'll be trying this cuff and sock top on to see if increasing the stitch count while decreasing the diameter of the needles and yarn works out to be a sock rather than just a tube of knitting, but I'm hoping against hope that this is a sock and not a swatch after all, since I've got 11 rounds of ribbing and 11 rounds of pattern that I'd really hate turning back into a tangle of yarn that's not going anywhere. This is my first foray into a sock for a grownup woman with size 10 feet with teeny tiny sock yarn and US 2 needles so I'm kind of knitting blind (since I'm determined to use a pattern written for fingering yarn which is twice the size as the thread-like stuff you see here, but it's so pretty [thanks to DD who gifted it to me] and it's name is Fiddlehead).
It's really dark when I get up in the morning these days. I really liked the way the front yard looked when I reached out for the newspaper today so here you go. It's damned cold today too. Ball-shrinking cold (if I had any). Speaking of... have you ever seen the quote from Betty White about balls? Click here and read it for yourself. I love her. Anyway, you'd better bet I'll be dressing in layers and layers--of wool when I can. Toe warmer packs too. Brrr.
Tomorrow night's the December holiday potluck party at Bay Lakes Knitting Guild and I was wracking my brain to think of what I can take to share that doesn't need cooking since I go right from work. I threw out the wish that I could take something hot since it's so cold and Durwood reminded me that we've got a smaller crockpot so I hurried to Walmart after supper (in the relative warmth of 9 degrees F and not much wind) for ingredients. I'll put it all together tonight after work and then take the crockpot and zipper bag of cold chili parts to work with me tomorrow and let it simmer all day. He said he thinks everyone who comes in will want some; I wonder if anyone will come in to want some. I have a package of Styrofoam cups that we can use as bowls because I can't make enough chili for 40 or even 20 people if each has a bowl but I can make enough chili for that many people to have a warming few ounces. I got oyster crackers too; what's chili without those little crunchy rounds?
December 11--Iran, Dagger (Khanjar) with Scabbard. It looked too pretty to be a murder weapon but only the hilt stuck out of the dead guy's chest. Simon clenched his teeth to keep from losing his lunch in the weeds like the rookie patrolman who had been first on the scene. Simon knew he didn't have enough dignity or time on the job to sacrifice some by puking over some corpse. The flashes of the crime scene tech's strobe made it seem like the body was pulsating and he couldn't be sure that he hadn't seen the guy's hand twitch. "Did somebody double check that this guy has no pulse?" he said to no one in particular. "Yes," came the exasperated chorus of voices. Guess he'd asked the same question too many times before. One of his recurring nightmares, there were many, was of a stiff coming to life and fighting its way out of the body bag.
Well, the sun's finally up--almost 2 hours after my first alarm clock buzzed. This time of year is hard. I'm holding on until December 21 (only 10 more days) which is the shortest day of the year, then the days will start getting longer every so slowly. Getting longer is better, trust me. Time for food, shower, and layering warm clothes. Bundle up!