Merrily, Merrily Shall We Live Now / Under the Blossom that Hangs on the Bough

I've gotten almost to the end of the third fishtrap repeat on the Aran -- just about where the armholes will be.  I like the pattern, the way the lines move in and out, like a stately dance -- it's simple enough to be more-or-less memorized, but I find this lets me daydream perhaps a little too much.

I was rather surprised to hear that A Bluestocking Knits had been nominated for "Best New Knitting Blog" at the 2005 Knitting Blog Awards organized by QueerJoe.  I couldn't think why my visitor stats had skyrocketed this past week!  Obviously, I should get out more.  Anyway, I just want to say thanks to whoever nominated this blog, and congratulations to the winners.  It really is an honor just to be nominated!

But before I'd even had much of a chance to fantasize about red carpets and Badgley-Mischka gowns, life broke in as usual this morning -- Julia wanted to take her new ballerina Barbie for show-and-tell at preschool, and Laura cried because Julia had taken the same Barbie only last week and now Laura thought that she should have a turn to play with it, in the two hours this morning before her late-start day, and Julia dug in and insisted (rightly enough) that it is her Barbie, and I turned around to find that Julia had taken off the socks I'd just put on her, throwing them who knows where, as I still haven't found the other one, and tempers were getting short all around, I had to pack Julia's lunch and get the laundry started and we should have left five minutes ago -- and somehow a little miracle occurred, and Julia suddenly said, "Laura can play with my Barbie.  I want to take her new Little Pony for sharing," and Laura saw the wisdom of this, the Little Pony which she had refused to let Julia take for show-and-tell last week.  Peace was restored.  Isn't it amazing how one minute they can be at each other's throats, and the next generous and kind?!

And I got to spend the first part of the afternoon in a house filled with utter silence, except for the wind outside and the occasional murmured "whoops, that's not right" when I found that I'd twisted right instead of left.

Comments

[Claire]

Congrats on your nomination!

[Siow Chin]

The scene you described sounds so familiar to me and somehow makes my own experiences more 'normal'.