First, I knit these socks. Rather I started them. Both of them. I got them both to this point:
Then I decided that I didn't like them. Or rather, I found the chart to be a pain in the ass and the socks were a little too big and so I started to rip. But then I remembered how put out I was when I saw that I ditched these guys so close to being done, that I stopped ripping, shoved them in a bag, and tucked them away. There is still a slight chance that I will finish them. Well, smaller than slight. Minuscule. But it is a chance.
Lady Bean likes playing under my desk while I am on the computer.
She doesn't seem to mind that she is taller than the space provided. It hurts my back just looking at her. It hurts my pride to see a big wad of dog hair next to her under there. We are dirty, dirty people.
We had more turkeys.
I hate turkeys.
LB was sick. As in brains (or infection, why must I be so DQ?) leaking out of her ear, only able to sleep sitting up on my chest, miserable sick. So for the twenty-four hours that it took for the miracle drugs to kick in, I was a glorified pillow.
A glorified pillow that knit (and had some massively frizzy hair, though that could be from the fact that I went from the shower to the Emergency Pediatrician's office in like two minutes and used not one single iota of hair product. Or make-up. Apparently I had a back up plan of scaring the doctor into treating her immediately).
Last, I planted herbs. This is from the day they were planted.
Proof that they were in fact alive at the outset, even if they aren't anymore.