I've spent the weekend hanging out, knitting, and reading. It's been glorious.
Started the second sleeve of Zen 2. I'm hoping to get it done by tomorrow and the whole shebang joined up. Watching the colors come and go is way more entertaining than I'd expected; I'll have to try it again some time.
I'm also getting back to that dark green wool I had a while ago. Remember?
It'll get turned into a hat and scarf for a Christmas present.
The husbeast asks I put up a better photo of his work; apparently the last picture I posted was a before photo:
His welding rig is a "Fender Mender", the name of which just cracks me the fuck up. Sounds like the name of a garlic peeler. Or something. Not a big he-man welder. Anyway, anyway. There's his after photo. All nice and fixed.
The one big blot of ugh on my weekend was yesterday. We had to go to a child's birthday party at the Inner Ring of Hell. (Also known as Chuck E Cheese.) If I were to sit down and make a list of all the things that make my nervous system go funky, you would wind up with a description of Chuck E Cheese. Flashing lights, loud noises, screaming children, hordes of people. Yup. The Goob, of course, loved every minute of it.
We agreed that the cake was pretty good.