The Day Got Away From Me

This was supposed to be a "do nothing" day.  That didn't really happen.  I did laundry.  I vacuumed.  I did some dishes.  Before I knew it the sun was going down and my "day of rest" had flown.  Just goes to show that time flies when you're having fun.

I worked on a mug rug for Knitting Guild's March meeting.  Our new prez makes suggestions about things to knit and bring to the meeting in her President's Letter in the monthly newsletter and for the life of me I can't resist playing along.  She asked us to knit something red for this month's meeting so I made that coffee go-cup sweater in red last week AND I swatched the stitches I'm thinking of using in my design(s) in red too.  I'm still not sure I'll be taking those to the meeting so it's a good thing I made the coffee go-cup sweater.  Her challenge for March is to make a mug rug, you know, a knitted coaster for your coffee mug or teacup or water bottle.  She suggested that we find some stitch or technique we've wanted to try and use that since a mug rug is only 4"x4" which is not much of a struggle or commitment.  I've always been intrigued by Linen Stitch so I dug out some self-striping cotton and cast on.  Pretty cool looking, huh?

I stayed up too late last night sewing up that blankie idea I had in the fabric store yesterday.  It wasn't hard or complicated but I wanted to get it done.  Too many of my ideas languish in the basement, all their parts assembled, but they don't get made for ever, if ever.  I was determined to get it sewed up, so I did.  I like it.  LC's not a blankie kid, not yet anyway, but I figure it'll be fun to look at once she's more aware of stuff like that plus it's really soft on the fleece side.  Everybody likes soft things.

February 8--Morris Cook, Mountain Lake.  Manning crawled out of the tent and shivered in the early morning chill.  Funny how a thin layer of nylon trapped heat so well.  That first blast of mountain morning air was a shocker.  The sun had barely crept over the horizon to paint the peaks and treetops on the western slopes golden orange.  He scuffed in the remains of last night's fire to see if any embers remained.  A few handfuls of dried grass and small twigs caught quickly and before long he had a pot of coffee brewing.  The wind hadn't awakened yet and the lake was like glass.  He shook his head at the thought.  A writer shouldn't fall back on something so trite and predictable.  He grabbed his camera to make a few pictures to try and sell with the articles he planned to write about this trip.  So far all he had was beautiful scenery and an uneventful hike, even the weather was cooperating.

I promise I'll get a blog post up much earlier in the day tomorrow.  Cross my heart.  Time to see about supper.
--Barbara