Last night, I attended a knitter's St. Patrick's Day Party. I was happy to skip the green beer, and other drunken shenanigans. Robb calls St. Patrick's Day, along with New Year's Eve, Cinco de Mayo, and Mardi Gras, one of America's great Drinking Holidays. As a former bartender, I call it Amateur's Night.
I was happy for an excuse to wear the alpaca lace fichu that I knit whilst traveling last month. (Heck, I was happy for an excuse to wear my weird Victorian mother of pearl pointing finger brooch!)
I got an email from my stepmother, who tells me that the sweater I knit her is a success. Anne loves sweaters, and I had determined to knit her a big warm hug of a sweater. Back when I was visiting in November, I snuck upstairs and took measurements from one of the sweaters I had seen her wearing. And then I knit and knit. I tried to knit warm feelings into every stitch, but the experience was bittersweet, because I knew that I would be giving her the sweater when I went to France for my father's funeral.
Still, I knit in happy colors, and with kind thoughts, and I'm glad that the sweater suits her.
Robb took this photo. I was pretty tired from a day at work, so I asked him to crop off my face. I have a digital single lens reflex camera, which means that Robb has to look through the viewfinder to compose a photograph. My camera doesn't preview the shot on a little screen. Robb's continued issues with balance made the photo session woefully comic. When he looked through the viewfinder, he would almost immediately lose his balance. Which would mean that he would have screwed up the composition, which means that he would have to look through the viewfinder again. And so on.