Not mud

After a rather wild ride last week (that ended with an emergency city crew still here ripping up our street at 11pm Thursday night – I am sure we are absolutely beloved by our neighbours right now) we have water.  We still have a bit of a mess, but there’s water in the pipes, and it’s even stopped being rather dramatically mud coloured.  More than that, we suddenly have water pressure.  We’ve always had enough water, as long as you didn’t want to do more than one water thing at a time – like fill the bathtub (20 minutes) and flush the toilet, or run the dishwasher and do laundry, or brush your teeth and wash a pot. 
(Those of you who have lived with teenaged girls may now silently nod your heads respectfully in our direction – because yeah. We raised three teenaged girls in a house with one bathroom, no shower and water rationing. I like to think it made them all great negotiators who can all get ready to go out in 2.5 minutes.) With our new pipes it seems that we can do an unlimited number of water things at once, and (other than constantly cleaning up mud) Joe and I have spent a really unreasonable amount of time this weekend rushing around watching the bathtub fill while the washer is on.  We are a simple people.

I’ve been scrubbing up mud all weekend – I’ve put what’s left of my garden back in, and planted a few pansies to try and distract the neighbours from the smashed up sidewalk, swathes of mud and unpaved sections of the road.  (As Joe said, when I told him that was my plan "I hope they’re GREAT pansies.")  On the knitting front,  I spent the weekend working on things that are not mud coloured.  Take this baby sweater.  It’s the Baby Venus sweater from Lucy Neatby, and it’s as odd as fish.  Knit seamlessly from side to side, with all manner of fancy tricks, like tubular cast-ons and short rows and waste yarn fanciness – it’s another one of those patterns that’s like the baby surprise sweater – or turning your first heel.

It all works if you can just suspend your disbelief and march on, doing exactly as you’re told.  Lucy knit hers out of Kauni (tripled by way of chaining it as you go along to preserve the stripes) but mine’s out of BMFA Twisted, held double. It was quick and interesting, although at one point I did have to remind myself that to the best of my knowledge, Lucy Neatby is just interesting, not insane, and that her instructions were unlikely to be wrong. (They weren’t. So far it works perfectly – and very entertainingly.)

When that wasn’t what I was doing, I churned away on a pretty pair of socks.

These bad boys ( String Theory Continuum – in Trifolium) are currently the darlings of the knitting basket, with all who see them (except for Joe, who’s still Joe) asking for them. 
I’m starting to think about seeing what I can get for them.  Loads of laundry? The bathroom cleaned?  The mud scrubbed off the porch?

Maybe I should aim higher.