The Power of Little Girls' Wishes

One of the Friday Night Knitters' sisters drove into town yesterday from Savannah, GA with 2 or 3 little girls who had never seen snow.  They were enchanted with the 25 snowflakes piled up next to their Grandma's driveway but wished for more snow.  Here's how it looked outside this morning when I opened the shade.  Beware of the wishes of little girls.  It's some consolation to me that their mother and aunt will be taking them to Goodwill, the Salvation Army store, or St. Vinnie de P for snowboots and possibly warmer coats, hats, etc. so they can frolic in the couple inches of perfect-for-snowballs-and-snowmen snow we got overnight.  You're welcome, children of GA.

It was okay knitting in the back corner of JoAnn Fabrics and Crafts last night.  It's not an enclosed room so we were heard over at least half of the store (I discovered pretty late in the evening when I cruised the yarn aisles) and the seating isn't nearly as comfy but it is well-lit.  We'd still like to find another place to meet but for now JoAnn will do.

I finished Fast Mitten #1 last night, got all the ends woven in, and stitched closed the thumb holes, you  know, the gaps where I picked up stitches for the thumb not the hole you put your thumb into.  Sheesh, you're so literal.  I cast on mitten #2 this morning and came to the decision that the NEXT pair I make using this pattern I'll make the cuff on one size smaller needles so that it's a little tighter which will keep out the snow better.  My hands are still cold so I'm still knitting mittens.  Big yarn + big needles = Fast Mittens.  Let's hope the same holds true for hats.

This morning Durwood and I crossed town to meet some friends of his for their monthly breakfast get-together and I was amazed to see in the foggy, misty morning that the Mason St. drawbridge was up.  It's January, it snowed a bunch last night, and a freighter was on its way out of port?  No way would you get me on a ship in the Great Lakes this time of year.  It's in the winter that ships sink in storms and are never seen again, sometimes not found for years and years.  It was an amazing sight and one I don't anticipate seeing again until spring.  (you can see the top of the wheelhouse just over the side of the bridge between the church steeple and the light pole in the lower picture)

January 3--Bill Curtsinger, Diver Under Ice, Antarctica.  The light was blue, everything was blue except the silver bubbles from Kayla's regulator shifting like mercury on the underside of the ice sheet overhead.  On the surface the day was bright, sunny, and windy.  She felt sorry for the line tenders, Matt and Erik, freezing in place as they payed out her tether.  She had panicked for just a moment as she slid through the triangle hole they had cut in the ice with a chainsaw but once her head was underwater she was fine.  The light was filtered like in a great cathedral except where a shaft of sunlight plunged through the entry hole.  There weren't many fish in the area but she wasn't surprised, they had seen a leopard seal prowling the area and they were fierce predators.  She'd hide too if she'd been on the menu but all she had to do was take water samples and record temperatures and she'd better get to it.  She only had 20 minutes before hypothermia started to steal her senses.

Today is January 3 and that means that one year ago today I became a grandma. Wow, that was a fast year, wasn't it?  Good thing I made a pan of brownies so we can celebrate our grandparenthood in style.  We're thinking pizza for supper will be an excellent idea too.  This is how old people party.  *sigh*  Wait, I know, I've got an open bottle of red wine in the fridge.  I can get it out to warm up and breathe and have a little glass of wine with my pizza.  Now that's a party.  I can hear the sedate pop of that cork now.  Toodles.  (exactly how warm does this stuff have to be before you can drink it and who made up these rules?)
--Barbara