...are giving me crap because they just don't understand the magic of hand-knitted socks. Ah, well. Colleen (who is reading this over my shoulder), at least can be converted. Or killed, whichever is quickest. And Jim (who keeps lobbing yarn at my keyboard and restraining one of my arms--i swear, i'm the only adult here) now that he is in possession of the Ugly Scarf, is rather less bewildered by all the knitting. He, at least, begins to see the beauty of a handknitted item.
Things at work are, well, still stressful. At least I didn't come home with a migraine today. And that's all we'll discuss of the unpleasantness that is my (usually) eight-to-five gig. It pays the bills, at least a little.
I'm still waiting to replace my copy of the Conwy pattern, --"and squish head czar jim sucks a lot of monkey b nbv" -colleen-- as I was only using a copy from Mom's book. The quote was added by Colleen while Jim stole my arms. As you can see, I am surrounded by children. I think of it as good practice for when I have children of my own, though I expect I'll not be able to threaten the children's lives so often. Jim makes me laugh, and he makes me play. It's good to be surrounded by children, at least sometimes.
At any rate, I'm still working on the Boss Baby Blanket and toiling away on my Bribe sock. I'm thinking I'd like to make some lacy mock cable socks with some of the delicious yarn I've been showered with. I realized today looking at my knitting basket, that between my gifts from Momolla and the Australian Fiber Fairies, I have what feels like quite a lot of sock yarn. I'd like something more mindful to knit, I realize I miss the Conwy knitting, because it is such a challenge. It's nice to knit something less stressful, but it also feels good to challenge myself with knitting. When next I go home to mooch dinner--uh, spend time with my family, I need to make another copy of the pattern.
In house news, Jim and I have narrowed the paint color options for our rooms (the library, office, and bedroom) down a little. At this point we're choosing between some mid-greens and gray-blues. We'd like to bring the trim in our room back to the original dark wood, it's just got a lot of layers of cheap, crappy white paint on it. We're also slowly working on cleaning up the front room. In another few months, we might even be able to put some real furniture in there. Ah, hope springs eternal.
I heard a song on the radio that I really liked today. It's a duet sung by Billy Ray Cyrus and his daughter. Part of the daughter's chorus goes, "I'm at the starting line of the rest of my life, as ready as I've ever been. I've got the hunger and the stars in my eyes and the prize is mine to win." It made me smile, and tear up a little at the same time, because, well, it feels like that's where I'm at. I've made this new start, I've set out to be an adult and to go follow my dreams. I just hope to all that's gracious and holy I don't screw it up again. At the same time, I thank all those gracious, holy beings that if I do screw up, I do have my family to lean on. Granted, I've done it once, and I'm not sure how much patience they'll have a second time, but it is good to know that I have people rooting for me. Oh, the father's part of the chorus? "Get ready, get set, don't go." I'm not sure how well that part applies here (kate, at least, was delighted to get her room back), but it made me think of Momolla. She's, ah, tenderhearted. When I packed my car up and headed out Christmas day, she cried. I'm pretty sure she's happy to see me moving forward, but I'm equally sure she'd like to keep us all home together as long as possible.
That's a rather long ramble. I hope the last few days between you all and the weekend are quick and easy and pleasant.