Last night after supper I got out yarn and needles and cast on the first stitch swatch for my design. I'm not sure I'm crazy about it so I finished the first 16 rows (one repeat) last night and this morning I upped my needle one size so the next 16 rows will be a bit looser. I'll see how I like that; I may go up one more. Turns out I'm a really tight garter stitch knitter (and a really loose purler) so a larger needle might be better. Time will tell. I'll see. (add in anymore cliches you like here)
Today I'm tackling the laundry and changing sheets. Can't just fritter away a day off, you know, although I wish I could just loll around accomplishing nothing and not feeling guilty about it. Must be my raft of Germanic ancestors with their stiff spines and tsk-ing tongues.
January 20--David Arky, Clock. Laura stumbled over something hard in the mess of papers on the floor of Aunt Hattie's house. How had things gotten so bad so fast? She used her foot to move papers around to see what she'd hit. A wall clock like the ones in grade school started up at her. She could see that the hands had broken off and fallen to lay between the seven and the eight. Aunt Hattie's cat, Dexter came slinking up from the dark hallway, making her jump. How the cat moved silently through the drifts of paper and plastic bags was a mystery. Laura found herself wishing for a big wind to blow clean through the house or maybe a home-model flame thrower to get the job done fast.
Time to find some lunch. I baked more bread on Sunday and I think I hear it calling my name. It definitely wants a slice of Gouda cheese on top too. Don't want to disappoint the homemade bread.