The Lies I Tell

Long ago I wrote a post saying how I had only one thing on my knitting list for Christmas this year (I of course can't find that post, but trust me, I said it).

The Beast.

Then the closer and closer we get to the big day I start adding in projects. Little ones here and there. And a couple of big ones. And then my Love also starting adding things to the Christmas knit list. Next thing you know.....

No Beast done.

My Love knows it's not coming.

He laughs that I'm stressed about it.

He laughs at me a lot actually.

He will get a body and a sleeve under the Christmas tree this year. I hope that he can be wearing it by Valentine's day.

I'm pretty sure he'll keep me around no matter what. I make some pretty good Nanaimo bars to make up for my shortcomings as a knitter.

Her Hands

Hands are very personal things. They are unique and individual. Hands tell the story of a life.

My Baba's hands are wrinkly. The fingers are a little crooked but strong. They kneed dough. They roll cookies. Her pinkies are delicate and turn in slightly at the last joint. Baba wears a ring with the birthstones of her five children. When she visits with people, her hands sit in her lap, occasionally bouncing a little.

Those hands have worked hard. They have milked cows, held baby chicks, cooked and cleaned for her ever expanding family. They have cradled me while I slept, tapped me on the back when I've done well, held me close.

.

And now they will be warm.

Animal Planet

Today, we will be studying the ferocious bath mitt in it's natural habitat.

It eyes it's prey.

It looks about for other predators.

Seeing no other dangers, it attacks.

Alas, the peaceful Dude did not see the bath mitt until it was too late.

What's gonna work?

Teamwork.


Baadmedicine Industries produced these lovelies for some lovely (and patient) preschool teachers.


From Interweave Knits Holiday 2009 - Felted Porcelain Bowls.

Fast, easy and pretty. And them to your list of quick knits.

Dear Santa

It's been a while since I've written to you. It wasn't you, it was me. I was growing up, going to school, getting married, having two daughters. I know that's not a very good excuse for my lack of correspondence. I can only say that I am sorry.

I have changed, Santa. I used to look forward to toys under the tree. Then I wanted clothes. I asked for a boom box, I asked for a CD player. And every year, you delivered. (By the way, I'm sure that you were joking the year you put an onion in my stocking. I figured you have a great sense of humour, what with all the Ho Ho Hoing you do.)

This year, I was hoping you could give me time. Time to be still. Time to enjoy my girls. Time to knit. Most importantly, I would like some time with my Dude.

You don't have to wrap it up, Santa, and I'm sure it wouldn't weigh down your sleigh too much. I know that you don't always bring what people ask for; I am still waiting for that Roller Skating Doll. Just do what you can and I'll do the rest.

Thanking you in advance,

J