Today I was going to keep track of what I did, and then post it tomorrow for all of you who boggle over how I get things done. You know... "8:30AM: Baby wakes me up, I change her, then stare blankly at Bloglines while she eats breakfast and I desperately suck down caffeine and anti-inflammatories." But that kind of thing doesn't really communicate what's going on, because I multi-task a lot. (This is mostly due to being twitchy from pain - if I stay busy, I don't think about how my arm hurts.)
But I decided some pictures are more worthwhile than a couple paragraphs of explanation.
This is what my kitchen table looks like:
There is, just barely, enough room for the husbeast and me to eat dinner. The table is meant to serve SIX.
My kitchen looks like this:
I was going to include a few photos of the rest of the house, but it's just too depressing. It looks like a toy store threw up in here.
This weekend I dyed yarn most of the weekend, and the husbeast, being helpful, installed a rack of hooks I'd bought, so that I've got somewhere to hang these skeins while they're damp. It was full, but this morning I've wound up all but a couple skeins of coffee yearn. I can't face the coffee yarn.
We do have Cherry Sorbet laceweight:
Lace often gets lost when bright variegations of color are used, so I try to stick with - mostly - tonal variations of one color (occasionally I go bonkers, but it's a rule of thumb). This one turned out particularly well, running from a dark purply red through red-red and orangey red to an almost pink. Pretty sure I remember how to do it.
A mistake in the dye pot turned into Kiwi sock yarn:
And I did some more Tribble, this time in sock weight. I'm trying to get motivated to wind out some long skeins for self-striping yarns... over the weekend I wound out a thirty-foot skein (it should make a stripe pattern about three inches wide on a sock), but I haven't decided what colors to dye it yet, so it's hanging over the back of my office door. I'm leaning toward baby colors.
Oh, and speaking of The Baby. She's taken to lounging in her rocker, just like her old man lounges in his recliner.
I'm sure there's something genetic going on there. I'm not gonna think about it.
The Baby is supposed to be napping. I hear jumping and laughing noises coming from the nursery. Hmmmm.