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••• Saturday, May 22, 2004

Handsome Ransom
As I write this, I'm being held hostage in a cottage, on a lake, in a beautiful Northern Michigan community. The duration of my captivity will be about 24 hours.

The whole thing started out with my husband proclaiming that we're going to the cottage for the weekend and there was no getting myself out of it.

I don't mean to sound petty and ungracious, but I just didn't wanna go.

As I've written about ad nauseum, I've been under a lot of stress at work, and had been looking to the weekend for some precious down time. "But Honey," my husband argued, "What could be more relaxing than a weekend at the lake?"

"Well, Honey," says I, "Aside from the pain-in-the-assnicity of a three hour roadtrip with a toddler, and a dog, and knitting, and smelly tooters and fear of poopers and the wondering where's my yarn and where's my scissors and the worrying of we did remember the laptop and related cords and camera and related cords and dog food and deodorant and blankies and books and spare contact lenseseses and lens solution and toothpaste and slippers and linens and medicine and stuff like that, and with the possible exception of an afternoon of root canals and mammograms, nothing would be more relaxing than a trip to the lake!"

So I bitched, forthwith. And oddly, somehow, this bitchin' gave me the power.

What power, you say? The power to bitch some more, with impunity. The power to demand that my weekend as captive be free of both thought and labor. That my captor (in addition to the actual abduction)would take full responsibility for the thinking and planning and packing and overall execution of the exercise

Has the weekend been stressfree?
Au contrare.
Absolutely not.
Hell no.
But that's not necessarily a bad thing. I'm kind of enjoying the multitude of silently understood "I told you so's." And I'm thinking I'll be reaping the benefits of this particular fiasco for weeks to come, at least.

Knitting Knation
I've had to stop work on my lace cardie. I forgot to calculate the armhole shapings for the gauge. I'm not going to be able to give this my full attention until after school is out. In the meantime, I've cast-on anew.

I bought this cotton blendy stuff on ebay a couple of weeks ago.



Then I mixed it with some softball cotton, to make this wrap for my mother-in-law. I'm picturing this piece for the cottage, for porch sitting on chilly evenings. I'm calling it "Porch-Around Wrap." (Hey, being kidnapped is hard on the cognitive.)



The pattern is a mistake rib stitch (row 1: knit 3, purl 3. row 2: knit 1 purl 1. Repeat)


From the Minds of Babes
Friday, I'm sitting on the couch, after a most hellacious day/week at work. The Cakers hands me this:



"What is it?" I queried. "It's a Brain Woe. It's for you." Brain Woe? Perfect description of my current cranial condition. ::sigh:: There's nothing like that special psychic connection between mother and child....Later I learned she was trying to say "rainbow." I still like the psychic angle, though. And since it's my story, I'm sticking to it.

Past post post followup: Did anyone figure out what was so weird about the pattern from my last post? Size adjustment was made by using different size needles. Same number of stitches, per size, at the same gauge.

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# posted by Marcia @ 11:28 PM


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