Saturday, January 26, 2008

She may just make it!

We're down to the home stretch...just past the half way mark at 900 yards with 860 yards to go to make my mile. There are exactly 10 days to go to the end of my month (Mile in January is really from January 5th to February 5th). I've been knitting feverishly but this whole work thing is really slowing me down. After reading Medicare and retirement plan documentation all day my brain is fried. Tooo fried even to knit. Imagine that.

I know, you'd never expect me to say that. But it's true. I was even a bit of a wallflower at knitting group, sitting there thinking knit knit repeat...knit knit repeat. Any more complicated thought was too much. I was able to squeeze in a few laughs.

Hopefully next week will be better and I can actually dig into some real work, roll up my sleeves and get some results.

Did you want to see some results? Well don't look to the Ivy League Vest for results. Nope, at 2 rows a day it's a chore that I'm working through. With as much as I complain about it, you'd think I would've ripped it out and moved on. But I can't bring myself to throw away the hours I've already put into it. So the logical thing to do is put a whole lot more into it. Plus I know it'll be beautiful when it's done. A challenge is good for us all once in a while.

Last weekend while visiting the folks, Lexie decided that my Baby Surprise Jacket made a nice bed. I hope the baby isn't allergic. Still she is the second best cat in the world, second only to my little Linus.

Who is not so little but like most mothers I refuse to see him any older than the kitten I brought home after The Boyfriend clearly said, "While I'm away at fishing camp, whatever you do, don't get another cat."

So half way through the week, at the top of a mountain, during a fishing break, he calls to check in, since he actually has some reception. And I, being ever so thoughtful and subtle, blurt out, "I got a cat, and his name is Linus. I met him and he had to come home with me, oh and I took one look at him and knew his name should be Linus." So not only did he now have two pedigree cats to scoop litter and feed, but he didn't get a say in the name. Poor Boyfriend. He's a good sport to put up with my and my crazy little Linus.

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