Wednesday, February 04, 2015

Today's Bit Of Random

It happened.

I lost my quilting ambition.

We had a birthday party for Meaty last weekend.  When ever my house is full of boys I say a silent prayer of gratitude that I have four girls and one boy instead of four boys and one girl.  Eight twelve years old boys is a loud, smelly, hungry crowd.  But also funny, and smack talking, and video game playing, and unafraid to look silly dancing, and drama free.  So it isn't all bad.  I suppose if I had a house full of boys I would adjust and probably wonder what I'd do with more girls.  Its funny how the circumstances you live with become what you assume to be normal.

But I digress.

In anticipation for the approaching horde I packed up my sewing machine and quilting supplies, lest they get pizza sauce on them.

And they have yet to see the light of day.

I picked up a few new spools of thread at the store the other day.

But they have sat on my counter, untouched, and unloved.

And we can add "quilts with all purpose thread instead of quilting thread" to my list of quilting sins.  I read somewhere that they were basically the same thing if you were machine quilting, so there was no need to spend the extra money on quilting thread.  I don't remember where I read it, so I have no idea if it was a credible source, but I've taken the idea and run with it.  All my quilts are quilted with regular thread.

Someday....I'll finish it someday...

I finished knitting my last half a ball of yarn for my Tweedy sweater.  I took a picture, but now I can't find it, and it is too dark to take a new one.  Seriously.  I tried.  Dark room + dark yarn = blurry dark blobby picture.  Allow me to offer this picture of Queen Bean in its place.

Had this been the intended picture of my Tweedy sweater you would see that it only measures 15.5 inches, an inch and a half less than the required 17 inches, and missing the final 8 rows of ribbing.   I tried to convince myself that I could be happy with a shorter sweater, but I know in my heart of heart that this is not true.  I will never love this sweater if I stop at 15.5 inches.

I have ordered two additional balls of yarn.  I hope the dye lots aren't off by too much.

And since I was placing an order I went ahead and got a new pair of needles to replace the pair I sat on.

And I may have also ordered some purple yarn for a sweater, since I only needed thirty four more dollars worth of yarn to get the free shipping.

We'll over look the faulty rational that says it is better to buy thirty four dollars worth of yarn to save on six dollars in shipping fees.

Because YARN, that's why.

So while I wait for Knit Picks eternally slow shipping (seriously, do they route it through India, with a lay over in Siberia?) I cast on for a hat.

I have a feeling I'm gonna finish this before my yarn comes.

I'm toying with the idea of seeing if I can knit an entire sweater while I wait for my Knit Picks order to arrive.

I should probably finish a quilt instead.

In kid news, two of my children came home today and told me that they have big projects due.  Meaty's science fair project is due tomorrow.  And Sweet Pea's model of the solar system was due yesterday.

Thank goodness Meaty has been (almost) on top of his science fair project.  He had six weeks worth of data to use.

If anyone is curious, we discovered that when growing plants from cuttings honey produces thicker longer roots than commercially available root hormone,

And since this isn't our first round of "name that planet" we already had two different sets of planets in the garage for Sweet Pea to use on her model.

I'm pretty sure I earned an A.  Even if it is getting turned in a day late.

I promise, we do make the children do their own work for the most part.  She did all the labels and worked a mean glue bottle.  I don't think the fact that she didn't paint the styrofoam balls should count against her.

And I deserve a medal for singing the Blues Clues Planet song with her for a freaking hour and a half until she had the names of the planets in order firmly committed to memory.

Behold the glamour of Motherhood.

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