Flakes are falling out there, not like it's supposed to snow on RJ and Aunt B but snowflakes are coming down. We're supposed to get maybe an inch, just enough to make streets slick for our adventurous driving pleasure. Goodie. Actually I kind of don't mind it, we haven't had much snowfall since Christmas, only cold, so falling snow makes me think it might be warmer. And it's supposed to hit 30 degrees by the beginning of next week. Amazing. I've been trying to find out when the last time it was more than 32 degrees F here but evidently I haven't been phrasing it correctly because the Interwebs haven't been any help.
Yesterday I did as planned with my Ravellenic Games knitting. I put the Southwestern Cowl away, brought up the Red & Gold Striped Xmas Stocking, and got to work. I had about 6" or so of striped foot to knit before getting to the toe, so I got knitting (and untangling, let's be realistic, when you change colors you twist the yarns around each other, that makes an unholy tangle, I'm just glad it's only 2 colors) but my "jogless stripe" technique was less than successful. So I searched the 'web for another technique and found one, a simpler one, that seems to be making a nicer join. It's a Christmas stocking so I don't have to worry about it fitting anyone's foot but I do sorta want it to look nice, not like a one-eyed chimpanzee knitted it.
In order to make my evening knitting a bit more active, I unearthed my exercise ball, got an ice cold scuba tank out of the garage, and brought up the filler regulator so I could pump it up and sit on it while I knit. What? I'm not about to blow it up by mouth or a foot pump when I've got tanks of perfectly good air and a filler nozzle, am I? No, I am not. (it was great for inflating pool toys when we had a pool, too) We've got a tire filler nozzle too. I married an Eagle Scout, we're prepared.
February 12--Giovanni Battista Tiepolo, The Chariot of Aurora. Aurora brings the dawn, my dad said, and I always pictured a blond woman in a blue dress carrying a basket of sunshine over the horizon every morning. Dad was a big fan of the imaginary people who lived in the sky. He would sit on the porch after chores were done and he'd talk about ancient gods and goddesses like they were old school chums or childhood playmates. He talked about life on Mount Olympus like he'd been there but the only Olympus I ever knew of was the movie theater in Carmi down the street from the soda fountain.
Time for all that work-getting-ready-for rigmarole. Fire up your snow shovel. Toodle-oo.