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This is what my life looks like sometimes, with bi-focals.  The yellow I’m working on is a cowl for me, now finished and cozy, but in need of a hat and some matching hand warmers, no fingers, so I can take pictures and be touchy-feely.  I’m on the hunt for just the right patterns.

I have also learned after making three cowls in a week, it is hard to watch television or a movie without the click click of needles in my hands.  I feel sooo still.

p.s. My cats look huge!



Happy Tuesday Peeps.

I finished the cowl!  Good for hiding, goofing, and warming.  I am uber (no, I did not mean Buber?!) pleased at the results, my first successful knitting project, huzzah!  Here’s what I did if you’d like to replicate:

Cast on 32 sts (or another multiple of 8 ) on number 11 (8mm) needles, then knit and purl until it’s the length you like.  Cast off and sew the ends together.  Take goofy photos.  Be happy.  Repeat, if desired.

I hope this is obvious, but just in case, repeat each set of directions until the end of the row.

Row 1: P1, K7

Row 2 and 8: K1, P5, K1, P1

Row 3 and 7: K2, P1, K3, P1, K1

Rows 4 and 6: P2, K1, P1, K1, P3

Row 5: K4, P1, K3

The photos remind me, I am nearly ready for the big bathroom reveal!  About time, huh?  Thanks to one set of crapper-doodle plumbers (and a good one to fix them all), this is the project that goes on and on till the break of dawn.  But we are nearly there, for reals!  I will be putting up art this weekend and then turning the den of the porcelain throne into a major paparazzi center.  Stay tuned…

Oh, and I thought I would share a photo of my favorite bicycle commuter.  Surprise!  I am waiting for you cutie pie.  Now gimme a kiss!

Wait, wait!  One more thing, click here for the awesome Jimmy Fallon singing, a la Doors, the theme song to Reading Rainbow.  The man is awesome…


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See everything; overlook a great deal; correct little.

Pope John XXIII


This is true happiness: to have no ambition and to work like a horse as if you had every ambition. To live far from men, not to need them, and yet to love them. To have the stars above, the land to your left, and the sea to your right, and to realize all of a sudden that in your heart, life has accomplished its final miracle: it has become a fairy tale.

Nikos Kazantzakis


It’s baking time Under a Red Roof: spritz cookies, pumpkin bars, mint sandwich cookies, sandies, and walnut fudge, yum, yum!  It’s a lot of work, but like the jazz on the hi-fi during it all, there is a certain pleasure and flow in the mixing, rolling, tasting (just a little), and packaging.  It is endlessly satisfying, especially when I think about someone I care about enjoying bite after bite.

It also reminds me of one of my favorite holiday pastimes, reading Truman Capote’s A Christmas Memory aloud with the hubster.  It is a magical time when I am transported, via the power of the word, to a place I have never been but know as intimately as my own home.  Buddy and his cousin are there, rolling the wicker buggy with Queenie trotting along side.  We dream, explore, hide our money in a coin purse under the floor boards, and make fruitcakes and high flying kites.  It is the purest form of love.

Just as much as I love the story, I love the act and rhythm of the reading.  The hubster and I sit on the sofa, impossibly close, and I begin, my voice as clear as the sky on that first morning, until it isn’t, and the tears come.  He smiles and wordlessly takes the book from me, taking up where I left off, continuing until the tickles in his throat signal it is my turn again, beginning the cycle over: clear words, tears, exchange, clear words, tears, exchange.  Then it is over, and I marvel at the distance traveled in twenty-nine pages.

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