••• Wednesday, September 15, 2004

She’s Come Unblogged
Ever so often I just can't do the blog thing. Sometimes I’m too busy, other times I can’t find two brain cells to rub together, and yet other times I simply have nothing to say.

But what really bugs me is when I do have the time and I do have something to say and my two brain cells are humping each other raw, but still, somehow, it just won't flow. This has been the case with my latest writing embloggo. All systems ready, but no flow.

But I may have figured out the problem. I believe that I get all blogged up when I think too much about what I’m writing. That is, I'm too quick to judge the juices, macerate the muse or allay the alluring alliteration. ::Okay, maybe I should judge a smidge and allay a lot.::

Hopefully, this revelation means I'll be back to a somewhat regular post schedule real soon. ::Is "new revelation" redundant?::

...In a KnitShell
The Dreamy Creamy (or is it Creamy Dreamy?) is coming along at a dreamlike pace, as in slow. I added two inches to arm holes on both front and back, and have been trying to figure out the respective sleeve adjustment. The cognitive acuities required for this type of planning(logic, patience, attention span of a medicated flea) are not my strong points, so results from this make-shit-up-the-sleeve-as-you-go approach might be interesting.

I hope to have this sweater done in time to wear to work next week and/or before it snows. This is a longshot, considering late meetings this week, and a college visit on Saturday. (We're going to the college, they aren't coming here).

::Gasp.:: My baby's a high school senior and turning 18 next month. Hang on to your babies, ladies (and gents). 'Cause the time, she flies.

Haiku: Day Tu
Babe to boy to man
Stands tall before his mother
To pilfer from purse.

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