Yesterday morning I went downstairs to see about some bibs I decided to rework after LC outgrew them (there's big-headed kids in this clan) and look what I found. That's right. It's the "lost" copy of The Mitten that I scoured the house looking for on Sunday and Monday, sitting there calm as you please, in a paper bag next to my sewing machine. Why that's where it is/was, I have no idea, but I paged through it, found that someone had inked big black letters inside the front cover and decided to keep the new one I bought on Monday. This copy will go into the LFL box in the back of my car to be sent back out for someone whose Meemaw can't afford to buy them a copy. All's well that ends well.
I didn't knuckle down to finish the Mitten Bear yesterday. I was kind of busy with other things all day and after supper when I did sit down I grabbed the sock bag and cast on Anklet #5. As much as I want to finish the animals I also want to knit Anklets #5 & 6. I have no explanation for it but knitting as many anklets as possible from black through gray to white and back out of that one skein has captured me and won't let me go. Good thing the Mitten Animals are the only Xmas yarn crafting on my horizon. Except for a few dishcloths I'm thinking of cranking out.
I was up and out early yesterday and crested the Ridge Road hill on Mason St. to see this glorious sunrise sky spread out before me. Thank god for cellphones and reasonable traffic, plus the road's as straight as an arrow. Sights like this fill my day with joy.
November 30--Lewis Kemper, Father and Son Feet. Mark held Ethan's feet in his hand. Both of them in one hand. Mark's heart lurched at the enormous responsibility that seemed to press him into the earth an inch or two. One of his cells had merged with one of Julie's cells and a whole new person had grown. A person he was in charge of raising to be a good man. No one would ever pick him, trust him, the perpetual screw up, with a job this important. Julie seemed to think he could do it but Julie thought the best of everyone. What if he botched the job? Could a bad dad make a kid into a serial killer? Maybe the kid would be ashamed to have him as a dad. Tears filled Mark's eyes and one fell on Ethan's forehead. The baby chuckled and gave Mark a gummy smile like he was just the person Ethan wanted to see. Maybe it would be okay after all.
Do you realize that today is the very last day of November? That tomorrow is December 1? The good news is that on Sunday, December 4 Durwood and I will have been married for 40 years. FORTY years. Holy Jeebus, that's a long time for him to put up with me but he says he's still glad he married me. Poor man, he should probably lie down with a cool cloth on his head. I get to go to the chiro this morning to see if she can rearrange my left ankle and heel because it still aches from the DO's tender ministrations last Friday, and I am damned tired of it aching. Knock it off, already. Sorry, I'm so ready to be done and fixed and over this. So ready. Time to flee.