The Joys of Self-Involvement

Sorry, sorry. I'm still at the point that I'm either working or sleeping trying to recover from it. Not much time to knit or blog or anything... the Husboy's grandfather passed last week, so we have had a hard time of it lately. I made homemade challah for the various services, and my baby-challah drama finally paid off in some pretty decent bread:

The color is more realistic in the top one, but I had to show you the braiding job I did on the round one below, lousy color or no...

I had the honor of being with the family and holding my grandfather-in-law's hand as he passed into the next world. I can only hope to have so many loving hearts around me when I go.

In other news, I also took on a temporary training job at work, earning the nickname "Plan B" from my newest boss. This has entailed a little extra work, eating up my little extra energy. When I have any time I've been a skeining demon. I have a good two loads of recycled yarn to wash and put up in the etsy shop, I just need good weather and some free time. And I bought a freakin' electric mandolin. Good news is that the strings are the same as on a violin, and I played violin in elementary school. I still suck, but it's a suckiness that doesn't sound as much like cats screwing as it did when I was eight.

Oh, and we bought Rockband when I got back from Texas. That's not helping either.

Deep in the Heart

Wow, it has been just about forever since I've blogged, right? I swear I've sat at the computer almost every day intending to blog and... nothing. So, for being so patient, I have a story:

Once upon a midnight dreary a knitter was sitting around after a long drive home from work waiting for her husband to come home from the graveyard shift. As she sat and read and thought about napping, the house phone began to ring. Mildly irritated by the phone that only telemarketers and other weirdos call ringing so late at night, the knitter decided to ignore it.

But the phone kept ringing.

And ringing.

And ringing.

Until the knitter, fully prepared to give the persistent telemarketer/weirdo the riot act, picked up the phone and heard: "Is The Knitter there?"

The voice on the other end of the line ended up being one of the knitter's long-lost sisters (though opinions do differ on which one of us was long-lost). It turns out that the sister had been trying to find the knitter (who knew she'd be in the phone book?) for months and months and had been calling the listed number when no one was home and had decided to try one more time just when the knitter was home reading and contemplating a nap.

So, when the Knitter got sick, not one but two sisters came to visit her, just in case (though no one mentioned the "just in case" part). Once the knitter got better, she went out to Texas to visit not two but three sisters. It was the first time all of them had ever been in the same room and all were pleased to discover that they were a lot alike and even liked each other, especially the part about the knitter usurping the position of the youngest sister.

So the knitter discovered that she wasn't quite so alone in the world as she thought she was, and the sisters probably discovered that they are much more like their mother than previously suspected, since her four daughters are so alike.