... or something to that effect. At any rate, it's been a full mg. of Xanax kind of day. It's pretty rare that I even take the stuff during daylight hours, but with dissecting the 'legalese' of the lease in the lawyer's office today, I realized how perfectly ignorant I am. However, my fingers seem to be off doing their own thing, so typing this is painfully wrought with mistakes. Am I justified in being offended that my own counsel felt it necessary to point out I have to sell 128 skeins of Louet Gems (or the monetary equivalent) just to pay rent, not to mention my taxes, insurance, etc.? All the while "working for free", which is essentially what self-employed is, I'm quickly coming to find out. He did MATH at me... then stared at me across the desk, like I would giggle and say "boo, had ya going there, huh, Dave?" He did NOT charge me for the twice-over he gave the contract, but I making him some socks, so the universal karmic laws apply, we hope, and then he will 'get it' about knitting.
I leave you today with a pic that I took of Eli, the just-turned-two resident monster. I meant to do a big "Yay, Mommy survived another year" post on his birthday, but life is just too nutty to gloat over that right now. Madeleine's 'Gryffindor bookmark' has been in use since it came off needles... I may have to sneak up on it to show it to you... like an 'action shot', but more "Wild Kingdom" than ESPN. What would the knitting equvalent of ESPN be like? Some hushed announcer stating "now here's the money shot; look at the precision of those double decreases as she comes off that thumb gusset... boy you just don't see that kind of skill in the minor leagues"... or some such prattle. I'd watch, but just, you know, for the 'crashes', like in Nascar... there could be drinking games for every time a stitch is dropped, or the knitter cusses at her/his fair isle repeat. Extra shots if there was a failed color change. The middle three children actually got excited when I told them I was knitting them socks for their birthdays. Quick, somebody get me a smelling salts. I realize I'm raising some oddballs, but for now they are cute enough... like this one, who has to ring the doorbell before he'll step foot in the house.
The above photo is a typical "Lord of the Flies" play session at Becher haus. They actually fling bowls of mud puddle water at each other and think it's great fun. This is also why I drown in laundry. So, I'm off to do some knitting of socks for a person who does not get knitting... good thing I'm heavily medicated, or this would seem like a monumental waste of time. Muggles... bah. Knit on, Knitters. Cami