It's asking a great deal that things should appeal to your reason as well as your sense of the aesthetic. (W. Somerset Maugham)

I know this is a really horrible picture, and I'm sorry. You see, I took the kids to McDonald's for dinner tonight.

I had decided earlier this week that we weren't going to do any more take-out. Or at least, we were going to severely limit the fast food. First of all, it's not good to be eating a lot of fast food. And second, I just plain can't afford to keep buying take out. (Of course, you see how long my resolution lasted.)

This morning as I was getting ready for work, I took stuff out of the freezer to thaw for dinner. So it's not like I didn't have any options (my usual excuse for opting for a drive-thru lane). But when my daughter and I learned that the golden arches were selling burgers for 29 cents in celebration of the Leap Year, we just couldn't resist the bargain.

Apparently there weren't many people in town who could resist the bargain. We ended up waiting in the drive thru line for 45 minutes! Counting the time to drive to McDonald's, I could have made dinner and cleaned up afterwards.

On the plus side, I was able to get about 2" of my sock knitted.

To achieve the impossible dream, try going to sleep. (Joan Klempner)

It's late (I wonder why...perhaps I shouldn't have kept knitting so long), so I'm just going to tantalize you with this pretty sock picture.

Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so. (Douglas Adams)

I'm in training. So I have an excuse for knitting this sock instead of doing the laundry. Or working on the report that's due Friday. Or making dinner for the kids...

My daughter has decided to go into training, too. We were talking about activities, and exercises, and she mentioned that she would like to run a marathon. So naturally I'm encouraging that -- I wish someone had encouraged me to be athletic when I was younger. So we've made the commitment for her to do the 5K Race for a Cure next January in the names of her two aunts that died from breast cancer. I'm also going to do it (but as the walk) in the name of my three students with cancer. Anyone know anything about marathons?

Never face facts; if you do, you'll never get up in the morning. (Marlo Thomas)

This is my total beauty routine. It's not much, but I'm pretty faithful to it.
In fact, I won't leave the house without my moisturizer, foundation, and blush.
(The lipstick is mostly hit-or-miss; I have a terrible time remembering to put it on.)

I'm starting to get nervous about Sock Madness. As much as I want to say "Oh yeah; I knit socks competitively," I'm really not sure if I'm really up to the challenge. The women (I think men do this too, but I haven't read any comments from them yet) are all very serious about their knitting. They're talking about knitting a pair of socks in 24 hours of non-stop knitting. They skip meals to knit, and they even knit in the restroom! Truthfully, all of this sounds absolutely wonderful. But I wonder what the children are going to do when I'm in the middle of the Madness and totally knitzophrenic.

Oh well, I'm off to do a practice sock. I'm in training, you know...

The golden moments in the stream of life rush past us and we see nothing but sand;

the angels come to visit us, and we only know them when they are gone. (George Eliot)

My evil genius Procrastination has whispered me to tarry 'til a more convenient season. (Mary Todd Lincoln)

I don't know if this is the type of thing I should admit, but sometimes I really don't want to be the Mommy anymore. It's not that I don't love my children. (I do). Or that I don't like being the Mommy. (I mostly do.) It's just that I really need a day off.

I'm tired. I'm tired of having to make all the decisions, everything from what's for dinner to what bill is going to be paid. I'm tired of having to come up with all the answers, everything from how the bills are going to be paid to whether or not my daughter can go to her friend's house. I'm tired of cooking and cleaning and laundry, all of which will just have to be done again tomorrow. I'm tired of working multiple jobs. I'm tired of apologizing for not being able to do everything.

And I know that even with two parents in a household, these same issues exist. But as a single parent, there's nobody I can turn to and say, "I've had enough. YOU do it for a while."

And I also know that this rant would not have been written if I hadn't intentionally given up my main source of comfort... chocolate.

There are few joys to compare with the telling of a well told tale. (Charles de Lint)

This little lizard is living in the bushes in my front yard. I see him quite often, sunning on the garage door. Actually, it amazes me that I still see him sunning on the door. His tail used to be quite a bit longer. I think he was caught by a bird, and just barely managed to escape. He lost his tail, but I image he has an interesting tale to tell his family and friends.

Unlike the lizard, I don't have a tale at all today. I'll try to think of something good for tomorrow.

Reality is the leading cause of stress amongst those in touch with it. (Jane Wagner, and Lily Tomlin)

An enhancement of yesterday's picture

There's a woman I know from Maine who is looking forward to her 60th birthday. And the reason she's so excited about turning 60 is because her mom and dad have told her that she can't drive until she's 60. But don't worry, she'll be sure to put on her seatbelt because you've got to buckle up the ones you love. She'll stop, look and listen. And she'll drive real slow, because better slow than sorry. Besides, patience is a Virgil.

This woman is also planning on dying her hair blonde, because blondes have more fun. Personally, I can't imagine why she needs to be blonde; she's already a lot of fun. She knows every song I grew up singing, plus a few extras, and she will sing them at the drop of a hat. Or at the start of the day, or at lunch, or any other chance she gets; there's always a song in her heart. And there's usually a couple of dance steps (or at least a bump and grind) to go with that song. And if my camera is in sight, she'll stop to "strike a pose" for me.

I'm going to say this once, not twice, just once: She's a wonderful person, and there's a lot of us who love her. And we're sending that love in prayers, with hope that it carries her through these next critical days.

Happiness isn't something you experience; it's something you remember. (Oscar Levant)

I know this picture is pathetic. I carry my camera with me all day long, every day. It's in my purse at all times. There is no excuse for me not to be taking better pictures. Or at the very least, ANY pictures. Instead, I wait until right before I go to write a post and then it's a mad rush around the house to try to find something worth photographing that I haven't already photographed.

This yarn, by the way, is for Another Cable Ready Bag. One of the women I work with asked me to make it for her. I figured it was a pretty good deal - she buys the yarn and I get to knit. I've got a couple of changes to the pattern in mind, so we'll see how it all works out.

I have a new behavior client. I had pretty much decided that I wasn't going to take him on. Then I got lost on the way to his house and ended up driving around for about an hour, and that pretty much settled the matter in my mind. (Who in the world would say "you'll see my car in the driveway" instead of "it's the house on the corner?" Especially when every house on the block has a car in the driveway? Only the person who would give you two ways to get the same place, without explaining they were two separate ways. Which means that I was literally driving in circles trying to follow the directions. And before you say it, I did use map quest -- it said that the address didn't exist!) But once I finally got to the house and met the little boy, I was hooked. He's adorable, and it's going to be fun working with him.

Inspiration is wonderful when it happens, but the write must develop an approach for the rest of the time... The wait is simply too long.

Leonard Bernstein

Millie
She's such a hussy for a belly rub!

The kids and I have been watching the lunar eclipse. We have a perfect view from our back porch, but I prefer to sit on my bed and watch it out the window.

It's the perfect night to see the eclipse. The sky is clear, and the stars are actually shining. (We usually have a lot of haze from clouds.) The moon itself is beautiful, even before the eclipse. I tried to take some photos, but my camera just isn't equipped to handle this. (Okay, with a better photographer the camera would probably work, but I can't get anything but bright fuzz.)

I was surprised that the moon is red for the eclipse. I guess I'm used to solar eclipses, when the sun is blocked black by the moon. But my son, who has been reading everything he can find online about the eclipse, explained even though the earth is blocking the path between the sun and the moon, light filtered by the earth's atmosphere still reaches the moon. And it's this indirect light that gives the moon it's red glow.

Even knowing how it's done, it's still pretty magical.

Temporarily Out Of Order (sign on restroom door)

I'll write tomorrow, when I feel better.

You can't choose the ways in which you'll be tested. (Robert J. Sawyer)

I need some type of schedule for this blog. I really don't know how I'll manage to Blog 365 without one. Because I'm just sitting here trying to decide on what to write and I'm really not coming up with anything interesting. At least with a schedule, I've have a basic idea.

Schedules are a very necessary thing for me. I work best when faced with a deadline. Something that needs to be done this month is probably not going to get done; I'll run out of time. It's just too vague. And it leaves me far too much leeway. I can continue putting it off, trying to decide when sometime actually is, until the month is completely gone. But if you tell me something needs to be done by the 15th, I'll have it finished by the 14th.

I also am much more comfortable knowing what to expect every day. On Mondays I clean the kitchen, on Tuesdays the bathrooms. Without this schedule, I spend my time trying to decide which chore needs to be done the most without ever actually doing any work.

So I should probably come up with a list of what to expect every day on this blog. There are several really clever blog-days being done. There's the Sunday Seven (list seven things that you are thankful for, or that are important to you, from the past week); Wordless Wednesday (no words, just a picture that tells its own story);and Thursday Thirteen (a random, or not so random, list of thirteen statements). I know that there are more out there, but you get the idea.

The only trouble with coming up with a regular list of daily topics is knowing that I probably wouldn't stick to it. As much as I like having schedules, and as comforting as I find them to be, I'm really very good at ignoring rearranging them. Even though today was Monday and I should have cleaned the kitchen, that's now been penciled in for Friday and I worked on paperwork (Wednesday's task) instead.

Maybe I just need a list of clever ideas...

I had always thought that once you grew up you could do anything you wanted - stay up all night or eat ice-cream straight out of the container.

Bill Bryson

A co-worker asked me to make a bracelet bag for her,
after seeing the one I did earlier this month. I knit it up
yesterday, knitting it on 4 dpns rather than than straight
with seaming (a la Aunt Purl's pattern) - just because I like
knitting in the round better than seaming. I felted it today,
and I'll be able to surprise her with it tomorrow.

'Anonymous' recently commented on my post about ice cream cones, bringing up memories of Carvel. I have a lot of memories from my childhood that center around the Carvel store in my home town, and I'm so glad to be reminded of them.

When I was very little (elementary school age), my father would sometimes take us on Sunday afternoons to Carvel for their parfaits. We weren't allowed ice cream cones because they were messy (we would have gotten all sticky as it dripped), but parfaits were better anyway (think fudge topping!). We'd either sit at the metal table inside, or stand on the sidewalk outside the store, taking our time until we were finished eating our ice cream. I don't have a lot of good memories of my father, so it's nice to have this one.

But the best Carvel memories are from high school. You see, I dated a boy who worked at Carvel. Actually, his brother and cousin, as well as another friend of mine worked there as well. So my friends and I would hang around, eating ice cream and having fun while we waited for them to get off work so we could all go out together. I spent so much time at that Carvel, that when I close my eyes I can still picture the metal table and chairs, and the railing that divided them from the lines of people waiting to be served. I can probably quote some of the conversations that we had at the table, except that I know my daughter sometimes reads this blog.

If you have memories of Carvel, please share them. And then we'll all go out and celebrate with a whale cake!

Young people are in a condition like permanent intoxication, because youth is sweet and they are growing. (Aristotle)

With four teenagers in the house today. it's difficult to grab any time on the computer (even if there are two computers, and both of them are mine!). At least it gave me time for knitting.

All phone calls are obscene. (Karen Elizabeth Gordon)

I received the phone call today that every parent dreads:

"This is your child's school. Don't worry, your daughter is okay now. But there's been an accident."

Trust me. No matter how many times you get this type of call, you're going to worry. And I speak from experience. So far, "don't worry, your child is okay" has translated into two broken bones, three skull fractures, and two fires in the classrooms.

Today's call was because my daughter's front tooth was chipped. It seems my daughter was using a megaphone, and another student knocked it into her face (purposely, although apparently he didn't think she would actually get hurt).

This could have been worse. And we were already talking about braces. This just means that she'll be getting them now, instead of later.

It really doesn't matter if the person who hurt you deserves to be forgiven. Forgiveness is a gift you give yourself.

You have things to do and you want to move on. (Real Live Preacher)

Chocolate and roses... it's a Valentine's Day cliche. But knowing that didn't stop me from enjoying them!




Valentine's Day just isn't that big of a deal anymore. For various reasons. But I have fond memories of this day when the children were little. It was easy to see the love in the gifts they gave, in the form of fingerprints on crookedly glued hearts. The more lace and glitter, the greater the love offering. The thought counted, even if it was teacher-prompted.

I can still quote the poem my son wrote me when he was six years old:

I love you mom.
You are the best mother I ever had.
You make me laugh when you felled of the chair.
You cook good.

(Just as a side note: According to my son, he still loves me even if I don't fall off the chair as much now. I still cook good.)

Colors, like features, follow the changes of the emotions. (Pablo Picasso)

I really like doing colorwork. The problem is that once I get started, I want to do "just one more row." And then "just one more." And then before I know it, it's almost midnight and I still haven't posted online because I wanted to get "just one more row" done.

But isn't it pretty?

By the way, I'm still working on my Lucy bag, which I can't wait to finish because I really want to see how it's going to felt up. But that's straight knitting, and I wanted to start something a little more involved.

The easiest way for your children to learn about money is for you not to have any. (Katharine Whitehorn)

My son was trying to talk me around to his way of thinking, and he pulled out all the usual moves. First he tried logic and reason, very methodically explaining why it was in my best interest to give him what he wanted. I didn't believe him, and countered that argument rather quickly.

So then he turned it around. Apparently giving him what he wanted would be a chance for me to help him build character, and it would assist him to learn and grow as a person. Yeah, well, I didn't buy that either.

The angry, pouting response came next. I guess he thought that he could either guilt me or scare me (I'm not sure which response he wanted) into giving in. Naturally, that didn't work. After all, I've lived through worse with him.

Finally, he tried the I-love-you-mom-and-I'm-your-favorite-son as he cuddled up (all 6'3" of him) on my lap. It would never have worked, except that while trying to get his lanky frame into position to hug me he accidentally trapped my face in his armpit.

Now, you're probably wondering why trapping my face in his armpit worked. It was because his younger sister walked in just then and blurted out: "No! I told you to kiss up to her, not to stink her out." It's almost impossible for me to say no in the middle of a fit of the giggles...

My advice to you is not to inquire why or whither, but just enjoy your ice cream while it's on your plate. (Thornton Wilder)

I'm not sure why, but eating ice cream cones (or rather, eating ice cream cones with sprinkles) makes me giggle. I'll lick the side, then giggle. Another lick, another giggle. Soon I'm giggling too hard to lick anymore, and the ice cream will drip down my arm. That only makes me giggle harder.

My kids know this about me. When we go out for a treat, they always warn: "If you're going to get a cone, we're not going to sit with you." Of course, I make them sit with me anyway. Because I'm the one paying, that's why. And then when I start giggling over my ice cream cone they get embarrassed and try to pretend they're not with me, which only makes me giggle more.

Forget the Prozac, just pass me a soft-serve cone please.

Knitting is a boon for those of us who are easily bored. I take my knitting everywhere to take the edge off of moments

that would otherwise drive me stark raving mad. (Stephanie Pearl-McPhee)

When we are capable of living in the moment free from the tyranny of "shoulds," free from the nagging sensation that this moment isn't right,

we will have peaceful hearts. (Joan Borysenko)

It's been a really wonderful day. I've been by turns adventurous and self-indulgent. And I've had a great time.

One of my adventures, which also turned out to be self-indulgent, was finding a new (to me) yarn shop. I had heard it mentioned, but I really didn't know where it was. So I was driving north on the interstate, saw the exit for the town it was in, and on the spur of the moment I took the turn-off. I had no idea where it was, but I actually managed to find it without too much difficulty. And I'm so glad I did!

The Knit or Knot is a wonderful LYS, with a really good variety of yarns and staffed by people that are the nicest people I've met outside of rubber stamp stores. They had several types of sock yarn that I haven't tried before, and I had a difficult time deciding what to buy. So I ended up getting yarn for each of my girls and myself:

I think my youngest is going to love this Fortissima Socka. You can't tell from this photo, but it has silver tinsel spun into the yarn so it sparkles.

My oldest is into a green phase right now. So even though I just did a pair of evergreen jitterbug socks for her, I went with this green tweed Wildfoot. I think I'm going to use the pattern from the current six_sox_knitalong group which is based on one of Cat Bordhi's patterns and has some lovely cables and a wonderful gusset. Plus it's knit toe-up, which is something that I've been wanting to try.

For me, I decided to try the Happy Feet from Plymouth Yarn Co. I love this colorway; plus, how can you resist Happy Feet socks?

Leaving Knit or Knot and getting back onto the interstate proved to be a bit challenging. It was actually my fault. I should have made a left turn to get back onto the main road. But there was traffic, so I decided to go right to get around it. Only there was no place to turn around. So I ended up driving through a neighborhood, then a golf course, then another neighborhood, then I was in the middle of no-where. I didn't think you could drive in Florida that long without running into either the ocean or the interstate. I passed a sign that said: "Welcome to Martin County", and then one that said "You are now leaving Martin County." A little bit later (still heading in the same direction, I came to another "Welcome to Martin County" sign. But I eventually found the interstate, passed through Martin County to St. Lucie County (my destination), so all was well.

I did other shopping, then treated myself to a wonderful Dark Mochachinno at the Java Hut while waiting for my mom to meet me for dinner. I pulled out my knitting, and I managed to get two more rats finished today. It's a lot more fun to knit rats in public, than the socks. With socks people either ignore me, or comment on how many needles I'm using. Once in a while I get someone who stops to take the time to explain to me that we're living in Florida so there's no need for me to knit socks. With the rats, people would glance as they walked by, stop, then backtrack to find out if they had really seen it correctly. Some of them would ask, "Is that a rat (mouse) that you're knitting?" My standard answer was, "Yes. It's for my daughter." Almost everyone just walked off at that point, grinning and shaking their head.

One older woman wanted more information. "Why are you knitting your daughter a rat?" I explained that my daughter lives in New York so I call her my Subway Rat, hence the rat scarf. She thought that this was the funniest thing she had ever heard. She went and got her husband, and made me show him the scarf. Once he heard why I was making it, he went and got his buddy, who then got his wife. So the four of them stood and watched as I added ears to the current rat. Then the second guy turned to his wife, and told her, "I'm so glad you never decided to do anything like this for me." The four of them laughed hysterically, then the wife turned to me and explained. When they were younger, her husband and his friends used to ride the Staten Island Ferry to work so she used to call them the Fairy guys. Had she knit back then, he would have ended up with a purple and green scarf with wings to wear.


Dinner, by the way, was also very good. We went to an Italian Festival, and made total pigs of ourselves. I have an Italian pastry sitting in my refrigerator, but I'm still too full to eat it. (But just thinking about it makes me want to try a taste...)

Men occaisionally stumble over the truth, but most of them pick themselves up and hurry off as if nothing ever happened. (Sir Winston Churchill

It's a Written Picture day today. I haven't done one of these in a while, plus I'm too tired to load the pictures off my camera.

I was sitting at a traffic light, and noticed a battered, red pickup truck pulled over to the side of the road across from me. The bed of the truck was piled high with miscellaneous junk: a big black plastic garbage can, a shopping cart from the grocery store, a boxspring from a mattress set, an outdoor patio umbrella. There were other items, but these were what I could easily identify.

As I was looking at the truck, I noticed two men running across the road carrying a long metal pipe. They had obviously just taken it from the dumpster at the construction site they were running from. I think what drew my attention was that they looked so happy and excited. I mean, these guys looked ready to give each other a high-five and a belly-whomp. My first thought was that they were on a scavenger hunt, and had just scored the big "win-it" item. Just then, the light changed and I had to move on.

Pain doesn't travel in straight lines. It circles back around and comes up behind you. It's the circles that kill you. (Pat Conroy)

For some totally stupid reason, I decided that having a clean house would make me feel better. So I cleaned the house cleaned today. I mean, completely, totally, rearranged the furniture, clean. And instead of feeling better, the headache that I've had for the past three weeks is slipping it's way into a full blown migraine.

Maybe it's the new rug cleaner I used. I knew I should have made the kids help me.

Maybe the clean house will make me feel better tomorrow?

Joy is found not in finishing an activity but in doing it. (Greg Anderson)

The finished Bracelet Bag. It didn't shrink as much when it felted as I thought it would. Now I'm anxious to get the Lucy Bag made!

Creativity is a drug I cannot live without. (Cecil B. DeMille)

Bracelet Bag, before felting

I had some things I was supposed to do today. A couple of them were important.

Instead, I've been obsessed with trying Laurie Perry's Easy Felted Bracelet Bag. So instead of doing what I should have been doing, I ran around trying to find wool yarn. Michaels is apparently the only local source, and it's the only place I didn't get to. So I sacrificed some of my stash that I've been hoarding for a Lucy Bag (which is my next project, after the Subway Rat Scarf), and knitted up a quick Bracelet Bag. It's in the washing machine now, hopefully felting up properly.

I'll let you know how it turns out.

Procrastination isn't the problem, it's the solution. So procrastinate now, don't put it off. (Ellen DeGeneres)

I started a new project, and couldn't resist showing it off at work today. I didn't get the reaction I had expected (sort of a "Wow! You're good."). Instead, the woman I work with kind of grimaced, and quietly told me that it looked like a mouse.

"It's actually a rat. But yes, isn't it great?!"
"You're knitting a rat?"
"Yep. A whole scarf of them."
"A rat?" (I think she wanted to be sure she heard me correctly.)
"Yep. It's for my daughter."
"You're knitting a rat for your daughter?"
"She's going to love it."
"But it's a rat. You're knitting a rat."

I don't think she gets it.


But isn't it cute?!

Go Giants! (their fans)

The Giants actually won the Superbowl! How exciting was that?!


I've spent the evening knitting. First I finished up the After-Christmas-Surprise Socks for my daughter. I also did the handles on her Cabled Bag. She had sent the bag to me last week, after giving up on figuring out how to do the handles. (My wonderful video wasn't so wonderful.)

My LYS had a Superbowl Sunday sale, and I ran over to check it out. I really didn't need any more yarn, but a sale is a sale. I was able to pick up some Noro Sock yarn at 15% off, which is pretty exciting. I've been hearing all sorts of things about the Noro Sock, and it seems to be either a "love it" or "hate it" reaction. The colors are gorgeous, so I decided to splurge and try it out myself.


I also found some Lorna Laces in the 50% sale bin, so I snatched it up. I probably wouldn't have bought this colorway normally, but at half price I'm sure that somebody would like socks this color.


And to think that less than a year ago I was puzzling over why people stashed yarn...

If you must play, decide upon three things at the start: the rules of the game, the stakes, and the quitting time. (Chinese proverb)

Another traveling sock.
This one was taken at Hard Rock Cafe in Hollywood, FL.
(I'm not so happy with the sock, so it's probably
going to be visiting the frog pond next.)

Mom and I joined a group on an expedition to the Hard Rock Cafe, and we had a wonderful time. Hard Rock, run by the Seminole Indian tribe, is a beautiful, large hotel with stores, restaurants, a theatre, and gambling. The gambling is the biggest attraction, and there are hundreds of slots machines blinking attractively for your money. The problem was that neither mom nor I are gamblers. Neither of us wanted to give away our money to the machines, and more to the point, neither of us knew how to give away our money to the machines.

Okay, that's an exaggeration. Playing the slot machines isn't hard. You put money in the bill-taker (it has cute little pictures as well as being labeled, so you can't miss it), push a button, and the machine lights up and -puff- your money is gone. Sometimes it credits you with winnings, but mostly it just takes money away.

But mom and I are very cautious when it comes to our money. (See how nicely I'm blaming this on her. I warned her I would do that.) We both prefer to understand how and why our money is being taken away. So we spent quite a bit of the day trying to understand the way the machines worked. We limited ourselves to the 5-cent machines, figuring that with all the choices we really needed to specialize and it would be better to specialize with something we could afford. It was bad enough that the 5-cent machines cost 25-cents to play...can you imagine how much the $1 machines would have cost us? Then we tried to figure out through trial and error what the different buttons were for. Some buttons give you more chances to win, but that also costs you more. Other buttons make the machine pay out more when you win, but that also costs you more. So we figured out which button took the lowest amount of money, and that's the button we used. Then we tried to figure out what combination of pictures we needed to win, but that's basically pointless. If you push your favorite button, the pictures change around, lights flash, and either you get money back or you don't. Then you push your favorite button again, and the process continues. Eventually you run out of money or get bored.

I was lucky enough to get bored while I was still $16 ahead. Mom managed to walk away with $3 extra. So we sat out by the pool for the rest of the afternoon, knitting and bragging about our gambling skills.

We must not allow the clock and the calendar to blind us to the fact that each moment of life is a miracle and mystery. (H.G. Wells)

My 2008 Daytimers arrived today, and you would have thought that I won the Publishing House Sweepstakes. Yes, I get that excited over a calendar.

I immediately opened the box, and began to glance through all of the pages. After all, months may have changed or maybe there's a new date (anyone for a 42nd of Mayvember?). Once I had looked everything over, then I had to start filling in the dates with appointments and events. I even have a new address booklet, but I've decided to wait until tomorrow to fill that in. (I could just keep the old address booklet since they're the same, but it's more fun to start out fresh.)

And just to keep you from thinking that the calendar was my only excitement: I finished the Blues Brother's Socks last night and cast on a pair of Souvenir Socks.

Okay, I live a sad, boring life. Tomorrow I'm going to the Hard Rock Cafe -- does that make it better?