It's not fair that it's rainy today. All the little trick or treaters will be dressed up as the Gorton's Fisherman or Mary Poppins in their raincoats or umbrellas. Or they'll stay home in droves and Durwood and I will have to eat the bag of assorted Tootsie treats sitting ready in the rocker by the front door. (I'd better go check to make sure there are no mice or bad pieces in there... be right back. Seems okay but there should probably be regular forays to maintain the security of the candy. Yeah, that' it, security.) (Hmm, maybe I should sort the candy in the order of appeal, putting the lime ones [my favorites] in a completely different receptacle, maybe even in a different room for, uh, safety. Yeah, safety, that's a good excuse, uh, I mean, reason.)
Last night at knitting I started work on a crocheted hat for LC. Mrs. Boss had linked a picture for an owl hat to my Facebook page so I searched out the pattern, printed it out in a legible format, and looked up how to start a crochet project with a Magic Loop, which I thought was a knitting thing. Turns out it's both, with a different meaning in each craft. I dug out some stash yarn and the right size hook before going to knitting and got the hat part done there. I started on the first earflap and got one row in before I came to a stitch I didn't know how to do. Good thing it was close to 9 o'clock, which is quitting time since that's when the store closes, so I packed up and came home to google half-double crochet decrease. Turned out to be very simple so I stayed up to make both earflaps.
The view outside this morning didn't inspire me to hurry into my clothes to race to the cafe to write this week's chapter so I stayed in my jammies (which double as my yoga togs) and finished the hat. I think LC will like it. She's a big fan of owls.
I promise to go to write tomorrow. Cross my heart. There's a lot of football on; I can miss all of it, no sweat.
October 31--John Dittli, North Cascades Reflection. The colors were so crisply defined that it looked like a really well-executed paint-by-numbers but Louise knew it was a photograph. Her ex-husband had taken it. Despite that fact she loved it. Their week in the Cascades had been one of the few happy weeks in the six years of the marriage. She had often regretted not shoving him off a mountain that week. By now she'd probably be out on parole.
I didn't have a clue where that was going but was pleasantly surprised at the last two sentences. Happy Halloween! Hand over all your lime Tootsie Rolls and no one gets hurt.