If I took Lunesta how would I ever get anything done?

It's absolutely amazing the things I will do to get out of blocking.

I loaded the dishwasher. I watched *shudder* Teletubbies *shudder* with my children. I spent entirely too much time looking at sock patterns online. I deleted all the information from my Palm Pilot and then spent an hour figuring out how to restore everything (I've got Dad don't worry. It was all still on my computer. I'm still not sure how it all deleted in the first place). I swept my kitchen floor. I even contemplated washing my kitchen floor, but I didn't want to get out of blocking that badly. I cast on for a new sock instead. I wandered all day with the task hanging over my head, yet I did not do it.

But alas, once again insomnia has settled into my life, a familiar unwelcome friend. Late last night when everyone else had drifted deep into sleep and even the cat had stopped padding about and chosen a place to lounge for the night I gave up lying awake in bed. If I was going to be awake I might as well do something useful. Armed with my mp3 player and some pins I began

First came the Bathing Beauties. They had soaked long enough. Blocking feels like laundry with the water and the wringing and the laying flat to dry. Maybe this is why I've put it off. I hate laundry. I'd join a nudist colony if I didn't enjoy knitting sweaters so much. What would be the point of knitting sweaters if they were to never be worn?

It was soothing to pull and prod and pin the formless cotton into orderly shape. I soaked and pinned my sweater swatches. As I smoothed the wool and laid it flat I daydreamed of the sweaters they would become. Little sketches of perfectly knit sweaters in my mind. I fell asleep floating in soft wool dreams.



Before I gave into my fleecy sleep I put the Rona Shawl in for a dip. I was on a roll and feared losing my momentum

This morning Meaty came in as I was pinning it. He asked what I was doing. I told him I was blocking.

"No you're not"

"I'm not? Then what am I doing?"

"You're making a spiderweb!"

He's right, you know, a beautiful lacey spiderweb spun of silk and wool and dreams.

As I pinned the forty eight pins in place for the forty eighth points of the shawl I came to an important decision. I'm buying some f*@$ing blocking wires. Until I do, there's more work to be done. Shhhhhhh......We must be quiet for now.

Starsky is soaking and doesn't like to be disturbed while bathing.