March 28
Traveled to SugarPlum's home for lunch and shopping. SugarPlum was certain this was the yarn (100% acrylic) she must have, despite Nana's and Mama2's attempts to persuade her to choose one less electric in hues and with a softer hand.
Aunt Loo suggests attaching a lining of flannel or fleece, lest that scratchy acrylic abrade the little plum's skin. Good thought, and since I'm knitting it in airy blocks, it may lend itself well to tying on a backing: say, neon green? *gasp*
March 29
Finished Little Loo's purse. Something about the involvement of an interior pocket, or talking on the phone while sewing on the machine, consigned me to stitching, ripping out, and re-stitching the lining's side seams — twice — since I couldn't seem to picture in advance what would be outside and what what would be inside. Let's blame Zoomer.
March 30
Traveled to SugarPlum's home and played at Pump It Up, an indoor, inflatables playground. The plum tuckered her playmates, Daddy and Uncle Son4, while Nana could barely keep up with the little grasshopper, just moving from apparatus to apparatus to watch.
Back home that evening, all the fellows burst into the house with laughter and loud voices, slamming the door behind them. Ruger was having an encounter with a gunk. I can't recall now which toddling child inserted that word in our vocabulary, but we won't soon forget a polar bear wearing gunk cologne. A good spritzing of hydrogen peroxide and baking soda aided in the decision that the polar bear could continue to live with us.
March 31
83º and windy, so hard-wintered curtains from a home with wood heat hit the washing machine and clothesline. At dusk, someone said, "Mom, your curtains." Dare to imagine whether or not lollygagging at the clothesline with 18 curtains is my idea of after dinner entertainment. While I was thus employed, I noticed someone left the lagoon gate ajar, and the gunked-up polar bear was wading belly-deep in the not-so-pristine waters. Let us revisit that decision to keep him.
April 1
Completed the pouch to use when my dress has no pockets, and it's too hot to wear an apron all day.
April 2
Designed a new desktop wallpaper.
April 3
Finished my purse and set clothes to lounge on the line (overnight...oopsie). Boy, was I ever glad no one said at 7:00 p.m., "Mom, our clothes."
See how relaxed they look after a night under the stars.
April 4
Surveyed and enjoyed the evidences that spring has sprung.
Traveled to SugarPlum's home for lunch and shopping. SugarPlum was certain this was the yarn (100% acrylic) she must have, despite Nana's and Mama2's attempts to persuade her to choose one less electric in hues and with a softer hand.
Aunt Loo suggests attaching a lining of flannel or fleece, lest that scratchy acrylic abrade the little plum's skin. Good thought, and since I'm knitting it in airy blocks, it may lend itself well to tying on a backing: say, neon green? *gasp*
March 29
Finished Little Loo's purse. Something about the involvement of an interior pocket, or talking on the phone while sewing on the machine, consigned me to stitching, ripping out, and re-stitching the lining's side seams — twice — since I couldn't seem to picture in advance what would be outside and what what would be inside. Let's blame Zoomer.
March 30
Traveled to SugarPlum's home and played at Pump It Up, an indoor, inflatables playground. The plum tuckered her playmates, Daddy and Uncle Son4, while Nana could barely keep up with the little grasshopper, just moving from apparatus to apparatus to watch.
Back home that evening, all the fellows burst into the house with laughter and loud voices, slamming the door behind them. Ruger was having an encounter with a gunk. I can't recall now which toddling child inserted that word in our vocabulary, but we won't soon forget a polar bear wearing gunk cologne. A good spritzing of hydrogen peroxide and baking soda aided in the decision that the polar bear could continue to live with us.
March 31
83º and windy, so hard-wintered curtains from a home with wood heat hit the washing machine and clothesline. At dusk, someone said, "Mom, your curtains." Dare to imagine whether or not lollygagging at the clothesline with 18 curtains is my idea of after dinner entertainment. While I was thus employed, I noticed someone left the lagoon gate ajar, and the gunked-up polar bear was wading belly-deep in the not-so-pristine waters. Let us revisit that decision to keep him.
April 1
Completed the pouch to use when my dress has no pockets, and it's too hot to wear an apron all day.
April 2
Designed a new desktop wallpaper.
April 3
Finished my purse and set clothes to lounge on the line (overnight...oopsie). Boy, was I ever glad no one said at 7:00 p.m., "Mom, our clothes."
See how relaxed they look after a night under the stars.
April 4
Surveyed and enjoyed the evidences that spring has sprung.
| Thus saith the Lord the maker thereof, the Lord that formed it, to establish it; the Lord is his name; Call unto me, and I will answer thee, and shew thee great and mighty things, which thou knowest not. Jeremiah 33:2-3 |
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