Aw Bedder

That's what LC says when Baba kisses her bumps, "Aw bedder."  We decided that since Baba's unable to chase around, up and down with her, he'd have the "all better" kisses so when she gets hurt she holds her hand on her bumped head and runs to him for kisses.  He's very good at it.  And I am "aw bedder" because I didn't get whatever bug LC had on Tuesday night.  Pepto and mint tea to the rescue.

It is so overcast today (and there are random, small, white things floating around) that there wasn't really a sunrise, it was more like someone slowly turned up a rheostat backstage behind the scrim.  It was so dim this morning that even though I went out around 7 o'clock to fill the birdbath, the feeders, and the birdie tree I didn't see one bird, not one, when I did my yoga between 7:30 and 8:00.  And speaking of that--YAY! for being able to do yoga again without the whirlies or much of them anyway.  I only had one little touch of it when I stretched sideways with my arm over my head, but it went away pretty quickly.  I moved more carefully and was fine.  Whew.  I never thought I'd say it but I missed doing yoga the 10 days I was too dizzy to stand up straight.

I got a bunch of knitting done yesterday so now the Hello Hamish cardi looks more like a sweater.  (I'm campaigning [without much hope] to have the coming grandson named Hamish, others have suggested Sherlock but I think that might just be a "place holder" name until he makes his entrance in the spring to embrace his real name.)

With my near-exclusive focus on sock knitting this last month in preparation for tonight's lesson at the Bay Lakes Knitting Guild meeting (yikes!) I unearthed the Jelly Bean sock and knitted a few rounds last night.  I know I should be knitting more Sudoku squares but I just can't right now, I need variety.  Maybe tomorrow.  Definitely tomorrow.  Cross my heart.

January 21--Jim Cembon, DSP95010.  To Emily's eyes the place looked like a steampunk Frankenstein lab.  The building was old.  Dark wooden shelves, cubbies, and bins lined the walls from the floor to the 12-foot ceiling.  Access was by a rolling, wooden ladder that she thought looked old enough to have come off Noah's Ark.  Not the waterpark either, the actual original Ark that Noah built for all the animals before the flood.  The store and its fixtures were the Victorian aspect.  The Industrial aspect was the inventory because tucked in every ancient wood space were car parts, here a bin of pistons, there a stack of hubcaps.  The sensuous lines of a fender graced the counter and piles of gears resembled Christmas trees of the future.  There was even a bouquet of sparkplugs in a cut glass bowl sparkling in a shaft of sunlight.  "Help you?" came a gravely voice from the read of the store.  Emily cleared her throat and reached into her purse.  "I need a window crank for a 1963 Chevy Corvair.  Do you think you have one?"

Oh!  Look at the time.  I've got to get myself brushed, combed and dressed and get outta here to get to work on time-ish.  I have all I need (I hope) to teach people how to knit socks tonight so all I have to do now is get away from the computer and out the door to start my day.  Toodle-oo.
--Barbara