There has been a little knitting going on around here. Voila! My new sock building in progress. One down, one to go. This is the Embosed Leaves pattern from IK. Lovely, eh?
I started the Pink Puzzle Wrap by Sharon Miller a few months ago. Ahhh, but you see, it's in black. So perceptive, my pretties! I am going to be working it this summer in the Amazing Lace . heh heh...that makes me laugh every time. I am easily amused. Does anyone else here remember what a Sleestack is, by the way? Or am I just that damn old?
The Luskentyre making her slow progress. Now that the symphony season is almost over there should be more time to slow down and knit a little....I'm dreaming. What oboist can rest when there are reeds to be made, I ask you? And when AREN"T there reeds to be made?
I will leave you with a small road rage story.
I was coming home after a particularly long and grueling day work. (I know.....how grueling can it get for a musician?...just bear with me). I was on a long stretch of fairly empty highway when a pick-up truck comes speeding up behind me and starts tailgating me. Now, I understand that no one likes to be behind someone else going slower than themselves. There are two lanes in case this imbecile didn't notice. One is designed ESPECIALLY for passing, although most around here use it as the slower-than-a-one-legged-bicyclist lane. Anyhow, he whips around me and hits his brakes. People, there is no one else on the road! No one. There is no cause for that. I cussed at him. Oh, yes. I know...you are hard pressed to believe this if you know me. (shut up, Michele) Upon seeing me mouth obscenities in his rearview mirror, he held up the universal sign for a hole and he and his buddy laughed and laughed. THAT DID IT! I was willing to let it go up until this point. Even with Dr. Laura playing on my car radio. (Don't judge me, it's the only radio station up there that I can get.) But, the combination of Dr. Laura's condescention and this sign were just too much. I started frothing at the mouth and instinctively speeding up. Ok, I almost pushed my gas pedal through the floor. Think rabid here. No one calls me a hole. I pulled up next to these two twenty-something boys and spewed forth froth and curses that I had never heard the likes of. Neither had they, apparently. They hit their brakes and made an effort to stay at least one mile behind me from then on. :0) I win.