The one where she’s aggravated

a little because she was too lazy to blog yesterday.  I know that if that’s the worst thing that’s happened in the last 48 hours, then I’ve got nothing really to bellyache about.  Nothing, zero perspiration, no sweat, zip.  I’m just way too compulsive about meeting arbitrary goals I set for myself.  Sigh.

On the flip side, I did a ton (or maybe a few pounds) of baking today and so for your viewing pleasure, here they are:

German Chocolate Cake

Pecan Pies

and what I’m calling Ooh Babies, a tweaked Hello Dollies

 with recipe to follow tomorrow.  These received a two thumbs up from Mr. Iknead, by the way.

Minnowknit’s dress is blocking and I’m finally ready to cast on En Pointe sweater, but first, I’m taking a bath.

A crust eaten in peace is better than a banquet partaken in anxiety.  Aesop (620 BC-560BC)



The one where the Celebration

socks are hanging in there.  I pulled a few moves that Harry Houdini would have been proud of, got them back on the needles and in the right position.  So, as of this moment, they’re moving forward again.

The Minnowknits Pinafore Dress is finished and is cute as cute can be.  Photo will be posted tomorrow for FO Friday.  So sweet and I can see Susannah wearing it already!

I have to work tomorrow and so the baking I’m usually doing on Friday has to be postponed a day, but I also have a committment to bake something for the Sunday meeting.  It’s really a birthday meeting since yesterday was D’s birthday, my birthday is tomorrow and R’s birthday is Saturday.  I’m thinking some sort of pie and some sort of cake.

Another Papoose picture –

Her face is saying “Who, me?”.

The idle mind knows not what it wants.  Ennius



The one where she officially

loathes the Celebration Socks and the yarn they’re made of.  Here’s the story:  broke 1.5 Harmony circ somehow, overjoyed to find I have another one, knows without a doubt that it will be a cinch to get the socks onto the undamaged needle, no fuss, no muss, no dice.  It seems that no matter how hard I try, I cannot get the stupid things on the new needle the way they need to be; they are either backward (with the working yarn not at the first stitch but the last stitch on the needle), one facing front, the other facing back and countless other screw ups that I just can’t describe.  These socks are officially in time out, in a ziplock, behind a closed door, in another room.  This is to keep me from totally frogging them and trashing the yarn just so I don’t have to look at them or think about them ever again.  Can yarn be cursed?  Deep breath, let it out slowly.

We had a wonderful visit with Susannah and her mom (who happens to be our daughter, Lindsey) the past few days, keeping them company while Daddy (who happens to be Lindsey’s DH and our son-in-law) is out of town.  We’re back home in Little Rock now and I’m beginning to gear up for entering the real world again tomorrow. 

Here’s a picture of the cursed socks.  Don’t let their looks deceive you, these babies are evil.


The best measure of a man’s honesty isn’t his income tax return.  It’s the zero adjust on his bathroom scale.  Arthur C. Clarke (1917-    )