And look! The crocuses are blooming. I find that single white one with the purple stripes very dear. I love the bright yellow one but that lone one seems kind of fragile and brave.
The hyacinth bud is fully out of the ground now and if you look to the right you can see a daffodil bud just starting to swell so despite yesterday's snow/sleet/rain Spring is on the way. Speaking of the snow/sleet/rain, it was accompanied by a nasty wind and I passed a high school playing field on my drive home from work where there was a lacrosse game going on with all those young men in shorts playing and dedicated parents huddled under blankets and umbrellas in the stands. At least the wind was at their backs. It made me shiver just driving by.
After supper last night I went downstairs to scare up some sock yarn to make spiral striped mitts. I found the original sock pattern I used a few years ago (on a sock I never finished) because I thought it had clearer instructions than the mitts pattern and in searching for that sock pattern I came across the pattern for those vintage hankie washcloths I made a few years back. I was blindsided by a desire to make another one RIGHT NOW. I searched out some cotton yarn I got on clearance last time I was at Spin intending all along to use it for these washcloths. I did gather up and wind the sock yarn; I bagged it with the pattern and needles and brought it up too, but this afternoon (after erranding much of the day away) I cast on and got the washcloth started. It's a pain in the keester to start a knit-in-the-round project in the center on very few stitches but once I'm through the first few rounds it's a lot less like wrestling a porcupine. I knitted up to this point on Double Point Needles so there were eight pointy ends joyously tangling with each other before I ran out of patience and put the project on a long circular needle so I have only two pointy ends to deal with. Much easier, although I confess even with all the drama I still like knitting with DPNs the best.
March 31--Egon Schiele, The Artist's Room in Neulengbach. Gabe looked at the bed covers. They were neat and tidy, the lines of the quilt blocks parallel to the edge of the pillow. The bedside table was the same, everything squared to the edges. Even the art supplies were organized, the brushes in a row from tall to short, thick to fine. This person can't be a real artist, he thought. Every artist he had ever known lived an untidy life and more than one of them should have had "Chaos" as a middle name.
And now it's time to go whip up some shrimp fried rice for supper because I was too cold and too tired last night so we had the leftover pizza we usually have on Friday nights so I can zoom off to knitting. Hasta la vista, babies.