The garlic is in and at least a few blueberries made it to the freezer. I had really hoped to make it back to the blueberry farm again by now. We thought the tiny girl would just park herself somewhere and gorge away, blueberries being her very favorite. But she took her task very seriously and was determined to fill her own little basket. She went off on her own (we kept an eye on her of course). We kept asking if she wanted to pick with one of us and she would reply, “No, I pickin’ with myself!”
It’s birthday sweater season, where my knitting project is dependent on who happens to be in the room with me. I have one color work sweater where I feel completely certain about the color selection, but nervous about the pattern and a second one where I’m completely at ease with the pattern, but nervous about the color selection.
I actually haven’t started Iain’s sweater yet. My gauge is so horrendously off that I haven’t had the courage to face it. Ravelry had the wrong yarn weight listed and I was silly enough not to double check with the pattern. Every time I sit down to try and figure it out I think,”OR I could just pick up one of these sweaters I already have started and have a nice relaxing knit. Yes, that does sound quite good.” And I do just that.
It occurred to me that this is my last week of summer in which to accomplish anything. Next week our schedule explodes and we are thrust into a full scale, full on, hectic autumn schedule. Where did the summer go???
I’ve been frantically trying to get the house and our lives together, but I’m so easily sidetracked. My ridiculous mind keeps having nagging thoughts like, “hmm, maybe we should try to paint the bathroom real quick?” A perfect example: yesterday I sat down on the futon with a basket of fabric to sort through. As I was cutting off scrappy ends and tossing them into a trash bag, I was acutely aware of the flat throw pillow I was leaning on. Let’s just say that the situation escalated and Steve came home from work to find me sitting in the middle of a huge pile of stuffing and bits of random fabric, pulling apart packed together fibers and blistering my hands chopping scraps up into teeny-tiny little flecks. These things happen, right? I’m happy to say that we do now have three fluffy pillows to recline on at the end of our long hard days. Of course, they are now too big for their pillow cases, so there is that….
I’m sometimes alarmed by how much my life resembles an episode of I Love Lucy.