Out of the rabbit hole.

Climbing my way back, with minor injuries and major work impediments. Apologies for the absurd delay. So about that Grand Canyon trip: If you should ever have the opportunity to do this – do it. Just go. This is a rare and unique opportunity to see the canyon in a way that so completely surpasses the park-your-car and hike to an overlook, or ride-a-mule-to-the-bottom adventure that I cannot find the words.

Do It.

It was beyond wonderful. Challenging, hot, freezing, dirty, and soooooo totally worth it. We arrived one day after some massive and horrible flash floods. The day we cast off our primary guide was very concerned about a dozen people who were reported lost – the raft(s) that they had been on were found many miles downriver from their last known location. The river was very high, running fast and deep, the color of a caramel latte, and soon looked more like a chocolate milkshake. We cast off, thirteen strangers, into the most remarkable adventure. Well, six of us knew one another - but the others were new, different and totally wonderful. This is the “before” picture – look how clean we are!

From left to right are Dave and Sally B, Me, DH in the yellow shirt in back, and Rhonda and Ron in the front. Our raft is behind – notice the generous pontoons (I later heard these rafts called Bologna boats!) Less than an hour later we were inundated by a thunderstorm – we sat in the boat in our wet gear looking liking the most pathetic bunch of drowned rats as we drifted downriver. The rain was warm but the river water was ffffrreeezzzinggg. At one point someone said Oh my god, look at that – and we turned to look upriver at a solid curtain of rain descending upon us. Amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it. After what seemed like hours alternating between baking and shivering we rounded a bend in the river and moored at a huge cavern carved out by the river
(and queue music sung by angels ~~~ aaaHHHaaah~~~) – and pulled out to a warm sandy overhang the size of two football fields, where the guides and two of the teenage boys played Frisbee, and the rest of us tried to get acquainted with each other and with our frozen appendages. Along for our journey were Jeff, Donna, their son Bryan, and Donna’s sister Sandra, from Connecticut and a grandfather/father/son trio: Verlan, his son Clark, and grandson Josh. Verlan was the most amazing person - every night he'd stand up with a poem or story, some funny, and some very poignant , and all very much looked forward to and throughly enjoyed.

Hilariously, Donna later admitted to me that when she’d heard that a bunch of Californians were coming along she was certain we’d all look like something out of "The Real Housewives Of Orange County” Har!
Poor thing ended up stuck with the Real Nerds Of The Silicon Valley.

Oh Theresa – that little pink bag you see inside the dry sack on top of the central storage section – that’s your HUGe gift from last year, containing one slightly damp pair of malabrigo socks. I did try knitting, really I did, and since we were limited to 25 pounds of gear total, socks seemed to be the perfect project. Unfortunately most all of the knitting happened on the plane ride – the necessities of setup/meals/cleanup in camp life left no time at all until after dark, at which time my handy-dandy ear light reverted to a handy-dandy bug attractant. That kind of took the fun out of knitting, really.



Our guides were Steven, Marty, and Mike. Steven is evidently one of the top river guides (which we found out later) – he had a near encyclopedic knowledge of the river and its history - Mike was the new trainee (impossibly quiet and adorable), and Marty the self proclaimed “color guy”. Steven (in back with the yellow life vest, Marty front right, Mike peeking out from back left. Marty was flat out hilarious. The kind guy with a dozen funny stories available at the drop of a hat; the kind of guy to whom you'd say “if you’re ever in town…” – and he’d show up. And you’d love him for it.

Steve seemed to have a story for every riffle and rapid on the river. Usually a grim story about what person(s) died at that particular section, which was a source of endless amusement for the two teen boys. But man, did he know the river – exactly how to approach each wicked rapid, work through (or past) every treacherous hole, and avoid the huge rocks lying under the surface of seeming innocent looking riffles.

I’m not fit to describe the sites. I can show a few pictures and throw out a few fancy words that contain phrases like sedimentation layers and “vishnu schist” (a substance that is a like a billion words old and which every single female on the boat swore would make the best ever countertop).

<<<--Sitting on the shist.


So many amazing things happened, like seeing the nautiloid fossils that measured the length of my forearm – and only came to view when Steven splashed water from a puddle over the sandstone... look close, it's there >>>



(Look here for better pictures of nautiloid fossils)










And then there was fact the fact that I scaled a rock wall three times my height to see the those fossils. Have I mentioned my fear of heights?

Watching Verlan (70+years old) sail past a the gasping/panting Donna and myself as we slogged up a canyon to the most beautiful waterfall and cavern.

Funniest event: Ron betting Rhonda a fancy piece of jewelry if she’d jump off a waterfall ledge. (This is my husband Bob in the picture, not Rhonda, BTW)

I’ve never seen any woman rip off a hat and sunglasses so fast… mind you, Rhonda can’t really swim. Dog paddle, yes… barely. I’m afraid of heights & couldn’t get the nerve to shimmy through the rock chimney to get to that ledge – but Rhonda, bless her heart - did it. And wore the diamond bracelet to her daughter’s wedding a month later. Ron had made the jump earlier and had forgotten to leave behind his waterproof video camera. Remarkably, Brian dove down and found it, still recording.

We went through some amazing rapids: Lava, which is legendary,

and Specter – which we renamed Sphincter - after riding through a hole that had us staring up at a wall of water a good twelve feet overhead.

After one of our day hikes I’d kind of torn my knee up coming down this wall (surprise!), so spent the day in the back of the boat where I could sit through the rough stuff – most everyone else had to be “down and in” – meaning crouched between the center storage and the pontoon, hanging on for dear life on the pontoon tie-down straps and my knee wasn’t in any state for crouching – so I got the full view as we plunged through the Lava rapids and hurled towards what Donna and I referred to later as the Wall O’Doom. We missed it by a comfortable eight or so inches. I later overheard our guide remark that he’d swum that rapid (meaning overturned and dumped!) more than he’d gone through dry... Oy. I can’t even imagine it. Prior to riding in the Cleopatra spot I rode most of the rapids on the pontoons, usually astride kind of like riding a horse – but the pontoon buckles were the
source of some truly epic bruises -
Donna-> and Me ->

I could go on for days about the trip – and if I have the energy I’ll fill in a few more details later. For anyone who is considering a trip down the river, do not hesitate - DO IT. If you're interested there are a few more pictures on my Flickr account and both Bryan and Sally set up additional photo albums as well. Sally's album shows Verlan's final evening story - the classic Casey At Bat, with his grandson Josh playing the part of the "hands" during the story. It was too funny, and I'll treasure that memory forever. Made all the more impressive that Verlan knew this (and so many more) stories by heart.

Small tidbits: Microfiber: Good, because it dries fast (the water is bitter cold). Cotton tank tops: guaranteed misery (the water is bitter cold and the irony of shivering when it is 98 degrees out is, ummm… not so funny).

White underwear – forget it. Everything white ends up stained brown. (Because of the water, not The Groover).
This is The Groover. You don't want to know anything else. Really.

Hats are a woman’s best friend, barring regular bathing where shampoo is involved.

A pair of kayaking gloves would be really fine idea and would have spared me a few blisters.

A complete change of clothing can be accomplished in the company of a dozen strangers with a strategically wrapped sheet.

A tube of Aquaphor can make you the most popular person on a trip down a very alkaline river, though Marty had yet another use for vinegar - a teaspoon rubbed over your hands would do wonders to soften them. You smelled like a pickle, but at least your hands felt good.

There are not as may scorpions as you might think, but a cot is definitely better than on the ground.

It is probably really bad karma to giggle at the incoming rafters with the freshly styled hair, immaculate manicures and spotless Keen water shoes and my payback was swift and sure (but standing there at Whitmore Wash waiting for the helicopter that would take us all back to civilization while the new rafters sort of sniffed at us… priceless).
<<--My formerly red sandals - see the sand sluicing out of them? It took three trips through the washing machine to get the sand out. The payback: putting away our camp gear under the house, I slipped and fell hard on my fanny, breaking my tailbone and then dragging around one of those mortifying blow-up rings to sit on for a couple of weeks.

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Upon returning from vacation, my work went from nuts to total insanity, so no blogging. Or knitting. Newspapers piled up for a week before I'd toss them because I didn't have time to read them. Not much sleeping either. My cats didn't recognize me. Nor did my kids or husband. I think I did more all-nighters in that six weeks than I did in my entire college career! I probably smelled bad. And in the month of November I had over 280 billable hours - for just the one major client. The other little ones had a piece of my flesh too... But however much I might bitch about it, I'm still deeply grateful to have work when so many others are struggling. I've been through some mighty lean times in the past... given the choice I'll take the insane hours every time.

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Other random items: One of my most favorite places ever - my LYS - closed this month, victim of the rotten economy. I know it wasn't an easy decision for the owner to make, and it was heartbreaking for all of us who worked there. The small upside was in taking advantage for the last time my employee discount and buying absurd amounts of yarn to stash away. I'm so far past SABLE* status I'll need to clone myself quite soon just to justify the yarn purchases.

*Stash Acquisition Beyond Life Expectancy

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Apologies for the overly long and sort of rambling post - I blame the drugs.

You know the story about the guy who finds a genie in a bottle and is granted three wishes, but each wish has some ugly twist to it? After the last two months I'd been wishing for a couple of days off, where I could just sit and knit and catch up a bit on of my shows that have been cluttering up the DVR.

Wish Granted!

My parting shot for the year was to fall off a ladder have a ladder self destruct under my feet in a daft attempt to reach for a box of Christmas items stored in a highly inaccessible place in the basement (thanks to DH who is having to re-arrange and shuffle basement items so as to work on various bits of our sort-of remodel) - the net result was yet another nasty fall. A new stupendous set of bruises and broken ribs just to ice the cake, so to speak. Vicodin is currently my best friend! And I'm taking a few days off, but it sort of hurts to sit. And thanks to the lovely Vicodin I seem to have lost the ability to count to 39 and cast on a simple K1-P1 ribbed scarf. (sigh).

I've discovered that Macy's does not stock corsets - that'd really help with the whole breathing and coughing thing right now. I'm pretty sure that the sales clerk thought I was certifiable though, so it was worth asking about just to see the look on her face. I settled for some u-g-l-y sports bras.

Perhaps in the next week or so (assuming I can stay concious long enough) I'll post some actual knitting content! Right now though, I'm having trouble just staying awake enough to read my email. Seriously. DH found me face first on my desk earlier this afternoon. It goes without saying that it was some pretty dull email.

Meanwhile - I hope everyone has had a safe and happy holiday with my best wishes for an excellent new year.

Milestones

Today was picture day. Graduating seniors have to have their pictures done well ahead of time and as luck would have it Ray & I both had appointments for haircuts on this very day - Ms. R had to move her appointment up by several hours and was scheduled to be with another stylist since Gina, goddess of hair, wasn't usually in quite so early.

I don't know if Gina came in early because of Rachel or because she was really booked, or because she was leaving tonight to visit her native Ireland for her brother's wedding - but the stars aligned and Gina did Rachel's cut and style.

Gina is hilarious and a ton of fun packed into a tiny little body with a delightful Irish accent and she can make my hair look good. And that is the very best thing ever (see prior posting about limp baby fine dear-Lord-I-hate-my-hair). She has also quite literally watched Rachel grow up, so I kind of think that it also means something to her to be a part of the big events - like senior photos and prom "'do's".

The early time for her photo left no time for a "pro" makeup job - and I was not exactly thrilled with her wardrobe choice for a "casual" photo, so we blasted to the mall hoping for a stroke of luck at Bare Essentials for makeup and a rapid visit to Nordstrom for a better looking top. Nice top with cute sweater found in less than 20 minutes (yay!) but BE had a wait list... oh well.

We did stop at the Swarovski shop and I finally fulfilled my obligation to get her a nice necklace (when we visited Saltzburg two years ago I went to the Swarovski shop, but Ray was in a music clinic and never had the time to get a sparkly/pretty... so a long standing promise can now be struck from my list!)

The actual pictures - what a circus! I graduated as a junior from high school and never had to do the whole senior picture gig, so this was an... experience. Multiple fake-ish sets to choose from plus the obligatory Senior Photo. Rachel chose the "garden porch" scene for her casual photo and I think these will be really nice. Her photographer was funny and kind which made her laugh and look --- amazing. The formal yearbook pose with the black velvet drape thingy around her shoulders was another story. That photographer had all the personality of a dried twig and from where I stood all of her shots had that kill-me-now fake smile... but I could be wrong.

We stopped at the shop afterwards and I finally got a photo of the Feather And Fan Cardigan with a real live girl in it:

Notice please the Really Nice Necklace. The shirt underneath was the one I nixed for the photos. Never been a big fan of the rumpled look - and Rachel has never been a fan of the ironing board.


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I might just have found my next great project. I totally think that this is exactly the trendy/edgy look that any plump fifty-ish woman woman of a certain age fashionable person could embrace.

The nylons! With all my lace experience I could handle a few holes! Just think of the cellulite those babies could hide! A bit of a stumbling block could be finding the yarn – my LYS dumped discontinued all of the eyelash and sparkly stuff. Odds are I still have some in my stash, so not all is lost!

The shoes could be a problem though. Do you think I can find them in a size eight double-wide?

Projects: 3 Floors: 0

There has been zero progress made on the floors, unless you count getting estimates. We have three so far and while each is pretty consistent for the master bedroom they vary wildly on the main living/dining area. I think we’re going to hold off on a decision until after we return from our raft trip.

I’m actually getting pretty excited about the trip, though I still dread the whole no-showers bit. I have a thing about having my hair clean – limp and baby-fine does not do well with dirty and oily. On the upside I bought a big floppy hat with some not-quite-believable SPF factor. Sunburn is my other worry – I go from pale to blistered in next to no time and any sort of stress (sunburn, lack of sleep, not eating right) will bring on a bout with herpes zoster on my upper lip, nostril, or chin... not something I want on a trip where the average temperature is expected to be in the high 90’s!

I’ve been buying other stuff to wear too, since my wardrobe consists of jeans and tee-shirts with the occasional skirt. Nothing that would work well for a river trip. I bought a couple pairs of those microfiber pants that dry in a flash and have the zip-off legs that turn them into shorts, two pairs of shorts that are also bathing-suit bottoms, and a new swimsuit top. I loathe shopping for swimsuits and have been successfully avoiding the entire ordeal for a couple of years, thanks to the cast-iron durability of Land’s End swimsuits that never, ever, seem to wear out. Add a couple of tank tops, a light weight jacket, undies, socks, a pair of sweatpants to double as PJ bottoms and I’m nearly done. And it is an impressively small pile! How ‘bout that – maybe I can learn to pack lightly ;-) And the upside: more room for knitting projects!!!

Meantime I seem to be on a roll with the knitting. Rachel’s Feather and Fan Cardi is finished, though I ended up not doing the grosgrain button-band lining. Turns out I’m not so talented with that sewing machine and the whole buttonhole making process. Three spectacular failures attempts convinced me that it probably wasn’t meant to happen. I did run a crochet chain around the inside of the neckline and that helped a great deal with the sagging neckline.

The February Lady sweater is done too (yay!).

I love how it turned out and if I can get past my personal-photo phobia maybe I’ll get a picture of me in it. For now, I can show this:

And I think I may have ended up using nearly the same buttons as IrishGirlieKnits used on her February.

I worked for a while on a shrug made from 2^nd Time Cotton in a Roman stripe pattern but was never happy with the result. It looked okay on Rachel… but I just didn’t like it. Frogged!

That yarn now has now been re-purposed to become “Hey Teach” The yarn and I are both quite pleased so far.

I cast on the afternoon of the Olympics opening, though I never planned on participating in the whole Knitting Olympics thing because of the upcoming raft trip. Staying up really late last night to watch the nail-biter finish of the US Men’s gymnastics finals helped a lot, admittedly!

On other notes: For those of you who aren’t part of my SnB and have an hour or two to kill, please visit Cake Wrecks, link courtesy of Diane L. Fair warning: No eating or drinking anything when viewing this site. My morning coffee was spewed onto my keyboard and I’m sending the bill for a replacement to Diane!

Colleges. Blown knee. Blisters.

Only two of the above are related. The college tour (Southern Calfornia edition) went well. Except for the blown knee part. My daugher, me, and Rachel's attached-at-the-hip best friend Erin visited: Long Beach State, Chapman University, Pepperdine, UCLA, Cal State Northridge, Cal State Fullerton, UC Irvine, UC Santa Barbara, and Cal Poly (SLO) and one or two more that I'm surely missing...

I loved UC Irvine - Irvine the city, not so much, but the campus, oh my yes. You gotta love a place that names the dorms after Tolkien characters like Pippin, Brandywine, and Gandolf, with one whole section named "Middle Earth"! Both of the girls liked UC Northridge but the "commuter" feel of the campus put them off. Chapman is gorgeous as is Pepperdine, but neither had that certain intangible whatever that the girls were looking for.

I've never been a big fan of SoCal but having a newly purchased GPS tracking system (thank you Terry!) really helped negotiate the seemingly endless snarl of freeways. We programmed the GPS gadget with a female British accent, and the girls christened her "Muriel". Rachel even knit a, uuhhh, unique, one of a kind, little bag to store it/her in (it is very colorful, with pink and magenta yarn, sparkly ribbon and Fun Fur. Y'all know you're jealous, aren't you?).

The girls were marveling a bit at the SoCal freeways. We have really only two or three freeways on the SF Peninsula, none wider than four lanes to each side. Comparatively, LA was just plain scary sometimes. Thank gawd for Muriel and her excellent advice (EXIT LEFT AND KEEP RIGHT IN 500 FEET!) Exciting and fun, but still, it is too crowded and too humid to ever make me happy.

Every single day was a bad hair day for me – in humid weather my hair goes limp and flat no matter how much I threaten it with a blow dryer, and I immediately sweat off all makeup. I gave even bothering with makeup after the second day. After all, nobody down here is ever, ever, going to see me again, fright right?

[I'd insert multiple pictures here, but… well… they've gone missing. Or the little SD card is corrupt. Whatever. Imagine pretty college campuses

[here] - and [here]. [Add a couple of photos of girls trying on clothes they cannot afford]

[And a picture of Erin wearing some really bizarre sunglasses – plastic things with louvers instead of lenses]

Erin totally loved LA and was completely in her element. We visited Hollywood proper (yikes!), visited the Citidel for shopping, and ate too much. Both the girls saw some of the silliness in the "trendy" shops that we visited when they recognized various bits of clothing as coming from directly from Old Navy, the Gap, etc,. but with a spendy price tag attached. All of us were astonished when we went to the beach one late afternoon and found the ocean water to be warm – bathwater warm! The mind boggles! Our ocean up north is not even close to warm - it is more likely to induce hypothermia in under ten minutes even at the height of summer.

Sadly, Santa Barbara (the town I was most looking forward to visiting) was a bitter disappointment. In my mind Santa Barbara was this sweet charming college town, with a vibrant downtown and unique architecture. The periphery is still lovely, but the downtown area has morphed into something totally alien, and not for the better – a long string of pricey high end "name" shops, with a homeless person on every other bench trying to bum a dollar or ten.

Daughter Rachel still has her heart set on Cal Poly, and after visiting the town and the campus I can understand why. San Luis Obispo is what I remember Santa Barbara use to be – a small, sweet, college town. Utterly charming. It is very, very, Rachel.

Somewhere along the line at one of these colleges (Northridge?) my knee registered a vigorous complaint on a set of stairs. And on the next flight I got one of those "well, stupid, you wouldn't listen, so now it is lesson time. TWANG!"

The girls were surprisingly sympathetic, offering ice and venturing into a pharmacy to find me a knee brace and a pack of IcyHot patches. I hobbled a lot and cried a bit. Damn, it hurt.

I finally fulfilled a long standing desire to visit Solvang, a charming but totally tourista Danish village, situated in Santa Barbara County. Bought cookies, limped a lot, and ate ableskivers (which for me was totally hilarious, since I've been making the danged things for years with an authentic pan and all – and I've not a drop of Danish blood in me!)

When I wasn't weeping in the back seat of the car with my screaming knee, I managed some progress on my February Lady Sweater.

Home for a week and the appalling state of my carpet (and house in general) had me in a complete funk. Finally, after, oh, 15 years of bitching, pleading, moaning, griping, DH agrees it is time to pull up our pathetic hideous well worn carpet to so we can evaluate having the hardwood underneath refinished. Deep under the carpet lies what once was a beautiful red-oak hardwood floor that was tastefully covered by avocado green shag carpet when we purchased the house so many years ago. Back then, we told ourselves that we'd pull the carpet and refinish the floors after the kids were walking and weren't so likely to kill themselves on a slippery floor. (Rachel, the youngest, is now driving. We've delayed long enough, I think).

DH, however, absolutely had to attend the birthday party of a friend this Saturday, and I was scheduled to work at my LYS, so we agree to tackle it on Sunday. But the party runs late, he visits an old friend, and ends up spending the night in the California foothills, so my brave daughter and I tackled the job on Sunday morning. Traffic rescues intervenes and DH is spared the worst part – dragging furniture and ugly whacked up pieces of carpet about, prying staples, etc… the blisters on my hands have blisters (the only gloves available were useless garden gloves, or way-too-big leather gloves… so blisters. Lots of blisters.) DH gets to pry up the tack strips and haul the big yuck to the dump – which thrills Matthew, home for his weekend visit, to no end, because he loves going to the dump. Go figure.

The part that has me really, truly, bent is the fact that Home Despot, way back in the way back days, installed our now absent carpet. Their ever so careful and delicate carpet installers used this device that I can only describe as the knee-banger, a gadget that was supposed to stretch the carpet in place and stick it to the tack boards. These knee-banger things left sizeable enormous gouges in the hardwood underneath. Sizeable enough that the people I've had out to estimate the refinish work have literally winced at the damage, and cannot promise they can really fix it.

But I'm going to have hardwood floors. Yay! This will, of course, make all of the other furniture feel really, really bad.

We've been going for the shabby-chic look for a while now and have quite successfully managed the shabby part. The chic part really never quite caught up. I suppose when the furniture is temporarily moved out to the garage a tragic accident with a flame thrower could occur, maybe, possibly. Right?

Sometimes yarn cajoles. Sometimes it bellows.

I went on a bit of a yarn crawl today with several of my SnB friends – Cheryl (our gracious driver), Terry (who provided the cute little GPS gadget) and Nancy, a co-worker at my LYS.

Foolishly I forgot to bring my camera, so all I can do is show the aftermath. We started at Green Planet Yarn – what a beautiful shop! This is very close to the kind of shop I’d open if I had lots of money just lying about when I win the Lotto. The owner, Beth, is a delightful woman, and I wholeheartedly hope that her shop enjoys nothing but success. Her yarns are all organic or eco-friendly, and I couldn’t resist this:

This is Blue Sky Organic cotton – soft as a cloud. It is a bit more rust-colored than this photo shows, and not the sort of color I’d usually pick out, but my friends said it looked good with my coloring.

If my current February Lady Sweater ends up looking good on me, this is what this yarn is destined for. I’d love to have a light weight cotton sweater. The weather right now is miserably hot and I’m having to force myself to work on anything woolly.

Cheryl got the same color too!

Next on the agenda was Bobbin’s Nest, a very sweet little shop with a small but nice selection of yarns and an equally nice selection of Amy Butler fabrics. Now I know where to get those fun, kitchy fabrics that you cannot find at your average Joann Fabrics stores. I didn’t buy any yarn there, but did get a pattern for some very cute fingerless mitts, called Truffle.

Last on the list was Purlescence Yarns, one of the very few shops that stocks Blue Moon yarns. They’d begun to receive some of their fall yarn shipments and the place was crammed and a bit disheveled from its usual clean and neat appearance. While I like the yarns that they stock I have to admit I’ve never been more than tepid about the reception – I think I’ve been there six or seven different times and only once been greeted or acknowledged – until I went to the register to pay for something. Maybe it’s just me…

Anyhoo, after groping the STR and making mental notes about future colorways I’d like to have, I found the Dream In Color yarns and this color was begging to go home with me. Screaming, pleading, and bellowing, actually.

Dream In Color – Baby. Ooooooooh.

No way was this staying behind. 700 yards of lace beauty!

We ate a quick lunch and headed back home, but stopped in to admire Terry’s enviable score of some Wollmeise yarn. Now I see why everyone loves this stuff – the pictures don’t do it justice

I finally slogged through the stockinette section on Rachel’s sweater, so it is nearly done. I’ve got the ends to weave in and buttons to sew on, and I think I’m going to add a crochet chain to the inside of the neckline because it seems to be loose and tends to sag.

I may also reinforce the button band with some old-fashioned grosgrain ribbon since the button band doesn’t look to be quite as stable and firm as I’d like. It is pinned shut for the photo, but it is just short of being wavy.

The linen part of the yarn is making its presence known too – you can see the wrinkles! I’ll get a photo of Ray actually wearing it, but this may have to wait until the temperature cools here a bit – she tried it on for fit (and it did fit!) but couldn’t get it off fast enough… 90 degrees+ is not sweater weather and we don’t have an air conditioner.

The February Lady sweater is moving right along. I’m done with the garter-section of the yoke and am trying to figure out the eyelet spacing. Actually I’m trying to decide if I even want the eyelet row, but this yarn is so springy I don’t think that they’ll show that much. Loving the yarn, in spite of it being wool and all, and too frackin’ hot to even think about wearing right now!

Late breaking new: Miss Rachel has passed her AP exams!! (which hopefully translates to college college credit for my almost-a-high-school-senior-kid) Her comment: "Now Daddy has to buy me something shiny!"

To which I responded "when has he ever done that?" Her: "Well, never, but I can try, can't I?"

Can't fault her optimism!