Edamame and a Giant Bicycle.

Well. I am still alive, despite the alarming last post. All better now. I hadn't known that adults could get RSV. Silly me.
We went to Denver over spring break, the week after Easter. We stayed with The Neefer's grandparents in Littleton. Late on the middle night, we were dragging around downtown, looking for someplace to eat dinner, someplace with great food as well as a high tolerance for boisterous children. We found that place in a little Japanese restaurant run by an old couple who doted on the children in between zealously serving amazing food to people from all walks of life (from a guy who appeared to be homeless to a dude in Gucci and Prada and everyone in between, including us).
On the way home, we stopped in Fruita, Colorado for gas and encountered a collegiate cycling race, so we got out and watched for 45 minutes. The red-headed children got lots of rubs on the head for luck from riders, but we didn't stay long enough to see if it worked out for any of them.

I didn't go to a single yarn shop the whole time. I still can't believe it, but I suppose it's proof of the sacrifices parents make for their children in the thick of life.

Yay! Dang.

I went back to work yesterday for the first time since I gave birth, but my happiness at getting on the other side of the reference desk at the library was tempered by a growing ache all over my body. By the time I was headed home yesterday afternoon, I could hardly drive. I have the flu. I was congratulating myself on Friday for not having gotten sick this winter, but it is with bitterness that I see my prematurity. I hurt too much to knit, and while I love the idea of staying in bed for a few days, the price at which it comes is high. My brother is flying in from New York tonight, and I had such grand plans, including getting back into the rock climbing harness that has lain unused since Thanksgiving when he was last in town.

We also had to cancel our plans to take the kids to the Monster Truck Jam last night. Little C was introduced to the concept of monster trucks by the boys in her preschool class this year, and now she wants to be a monster truck driver when she grows up. Actually she wants to be a dentist, an artist, a monster truck driver and a mom. All my life I wondered what the hell people enjoyed about monster trucks, but my heart was transformed when my five year old daughter looked up at me with her big blue eyes and said, "Will the Gravedigger be there, mom? The 'Digger is my favorite!" I was always too cool to be into such a trashy thing, but now I am embracing it, and I was genuinely disappointed to miss it. Next time, we'll be there.

On the bright side, I have an excuse not to go jogging in the slush. And my mom is right downstairs making me ginger rosemary tea. So I know I'm loved.

Of Bowling Balls and Bicycles.

I knit this hat for my sister's boyfriend A. a couple of years ago. He and my sister eschew cars, biking everywhere instead, but his head was getting cold under his helmet, so I took pity on him. This is actually the second hat I knit him; the first hat stuck to his helmet when he took it off once and then it fell out while he was walking around. He grieved it greatly, so he got another, very different hat to replace it. So you see him here, photographed last Sunday, a French boy preparing to mount his French Motobecane after a late brunch. The sun is shining and his scarf is knotted just so. And his head is warm.


Speaking of warmth, I finished the lovely Noro striped scarf. This was such a pleasure to knit, despite the ongoing, never-ending 1x1 rib. The shifting colors and the feel of the wool and silk delighted me as I went along, and I was almost sad to finish. But now I get to wear it, and that's even more delightful. And yes, that is a bowling ball over my shoulder. I love them; it's irrational, I know.

It's delightful to all and sundry.

Wooly Hat.

Here is The Neefer in his Koolhaas. It didn't take long to knit, which is a good thing, since he asked me to give him a mohawk an hour or two before I bound off. He had cold ears in the morning and regretted his new 'do, thus he literally didn't take the hat off for two weeks except to take a shower. He slept in it and wore it to work; he even wore it into the pools at Lava Hot Springs.
We spent several hours driving around looking at houses last Saturday, with a two hour break in the middle for a friend's fifth birthday party (above). There were a few promising leads, but nothing told us we had found The House. We hadn't been out looking since before Thanksgiving, and we're really ready to find It. I've forgotten what it's like to have my own kitchen. When I think of it, it seems like the ultimate luxury.

Mustard Mittens.

I finished these Very Cabley Mittens for The Neefer for Christmas. They're wonderful and warm, and now I really need to make some for myself (have you noticed the highs lately? Where the hell are we, the Yukon Territory?!).

We're off to Lava Hot Springs for the long weekend. It's even colder there, but at least we'll be soaking in hot water most of the time.

Spending Spree.

My stash is going to take on new proportions. On the basis of Laurie's advice, I got some fiber from Funky Eclectic, just to, you know, make spinning fun. I also got some great sock blockers at the same time. Because, why not?


This is Poppy.


This is Estuary. I think, should I actually be able to spin it, that it may become a baby sweater. Or maybe I'm just wildly overestimating myself. Regardless, it will be fun to spin.


I'm reminded of when I couldn't knit very fast (not that I'm fast now, but I'm faster than I was), and it seems like there were a lot of skein photos posted and not many Finished Objects. Hopefully something similar will occur with the fiber posting.

EDIT: So actually it's SPUNKY Eclectic. I did know that (thanks, Laurie). But it is pretty funky too.

What Better Way to Go?

I died in a knitting accident too.

Thank you to xkcd for raising awareness of the climbing rate of knitting related deaths. Now I know why The Neefer reads it everyday.