Has it occurred to anybody but me that I could keep showing you the same picture of this tank and you would never know?
I need a total of 10.5 inches and I'm in the black hole. I knit and knit, and it's 7 inches. So I knit for a while and I measure and it's 7 inches. So then I count rows, it's about 7 rows to an inch, so I knit 7 rows, then measure.
7 inches. That firmed up my theory, you don't get that kind of consistency by accident. It's not a freak of nature or an aberration of some kind. It's a plot.
No way does a tank have fortitude like that, and the incidence of the number seven is very suspicious. It's getting some kind of supernatural help. All the signs are there.
I decided to try stepping out on the tank, jealousy can be a powerful motivator. I went and got this...
and waved it around near the tank. Yeah that's right. See that? It's a cute little cotton and it's got cables chick, so you might want to get your crap together or it's the high road for you. There are other projects, and they are trying way harder than you. Suck it up and get yourself over the 7 inch line tanky-poo, cause Momma's got a short attention span.
I had a bunch of phone stuff to do yesterday, so while I made my calls I carded.
Then I sort of spun it all.
The suspense is killing me. I'm anxious to get three bobbins full so that I can ply a bunch and see what kind of yardage I'm getting. If I did that, I could do some sort of mathematical trick and figure out how much of the fleece it's going to take. Yesterday I had this idea that if it turns out that there's tons, maybe I'd give Ken enough handspun for a sweater, if he wants it.
Total G4 hours: 12
So far I think you would have to say that school vacation is not going very well.
The two littler girls wanted pets. I had this idea that I would hold that out...you know, as incentive for allowing me to have a couple of hours at the computer each day to try and earn a living to buy them food and pets. I figured that I would say things like "You girls are being so quiet...you are getting close to that hamster" or " My goodness, now this is the kind of behaviour that gets a little girl a new fish". It was going to be maternal bribery at it's best. (If any of you are thinking that bribery isn't a valid parenting tool, I ask you this. Would you go to work if they didn't bribe you with money?)
The pet thing was going to work for me two ways, firstly, the aforementioned bribery system of good behaviour, and secondly, because once the pets were obtained (I was aiming for halfway through the summer) they would take hours of concern and care, further distracting the ladies from their mission to obstruct me and my plan to have gainful employment, and my sanity intact this summer.
By 5:30 yesterday Joe and I were in a pet shop with dazed and deflated looks on our faces buying a dwarf hamster and a fish and really having no idea how it all happened.
Score: The Ladies - 1, management - 0
Meet "Sharkbait Oo-ha-ha" and well,
Megan has a thing for naming hamsters. She spends a lot of time thinking up exotic and creative names, names that are significant, names that are spiritually meaningful and create a real place in the world for the hamster. Megan feels a keen sense of responsibility for hamster naming. Her first hamster was named
"Pashmina-Oxnard". The second one "Kierie" this one? This one is named....wait for it....
(ever get the feeling you have no idea what's going on?)