You'll have to pardon me. I won't be heard from for another day or so. I'm reading this:
It's the umpteenth installment of the Eve Dallas detective series. I'm knitting while I read so all is not lost, but I'm not good for a hell of a lot else for a while. (I am feeding and diapering the baby, I'm not totally gone. But close.)
I made up the menu and grocery list for Thanksgiving. We're having turkey. Not ham. There is much rejoicing.
I finally got a good look at the cat's tail and I think I sprained it, not broke it. However there was a big strip of fur removed during the door-slamming process and it looks like the poor critter's gonna have a permanent bald spot on her tail. That way I can see it every day and remember what a dumbass I am.
The reason it's been colder than a polar bear fuck around here (I know you guys loved that little gem, so I'll just keep using it) is because the husbeast has been running the AIR CONDITIONING. We had a little chat over that last night. Today it's almost warm.
I started a pair of Knucks. To hell with the scarves. I'll pull a Yarn Harlot and knit them all the week before Christmas. Or better yet, in the car on the way to Ohio.
And a fix for the baby addicts. From May: