This is my current knitting.
It's a green vest. Interesting pattern, and it's made from my hand dyed yarn, but oh it's slow going (that wretched twisted stitch).
This is my current handbag knitting.
They're washcloths. Or dishcloths. Whatever.
This is what it looks like around here in the morning these days.
That was Thursday morning I believe. The mist was moving so fast and the light changing so rapidly that every time I looked up from my porridge it was different again. More over at Flickr.
It's been an interesting week here.
Work has been, by turns, challenging, stressful, upsetting and bizarre. It involved frustration and tears over a repeat performance of that from a couple of weeks ago and culminated in a personal apology and the biggest exercise in spin I've seen in a long time (cynical much?) and my boss and I having to go out once more for coffee and more op shopping to strengthen our frayed nerves. This latest opshopping foray resulted in a bunch of wooden knitting needles for me, hooray! (I told you I have the best boss). I think I'd better stop talking about work now, right? (Have I given away too much on the blog over the years? Have you all worked out where I work? And so should I be deleting these wee episodes? I don't want to be dooced ... aw, no one real reads this, right?)
The boy's play went splendidly. He almost got away with skipping the kiss scene, but as he turned away the director/prompt made loud smooching noises and he had to turn back, reluctantly. Olivia, the kissee, grabbed his hat to shield them and they did the deed. He emerged a tad bashful.
Actually the loveliest bit was the scene just after when he meets his long lost 'near identical' girl twin, who has been masquerading as a boy. Now, my boy is as pale as a ghost, with blue eyes and blonde curls, while his 'twin sister' was played by an exquisitely beautiful young Japanese girl so it added a comical touch as they pretended to see themselves standing in each other's place (Do I stand before me? I never had a brother ...) Viola removed her hat, swung her [long, straight, black] hair free from her cap and the rest of the cast pretended to gasp at how alike they were! (One face, one voice, one habit and two persons, etc). My boy reached forward, gently and ever so tenderly peeled off his sister's moustache, and they embraced. Mine eyes got a bit moist.
Tomorrow he performs in a violin concert and the other three males of my household will play in various soccer matches.
And in breaking news, the cat caught on fire earlier this afternoon.
Which adds a whole new meaning to the phrase "Please put the cat out."