My Mom and I went to a craft show in Morristown today–really, a nice change from doing my own! Mostly jewelry and art vendors–we saw some beautiful photographs and art to hang on a wall. Also some handcrafted furniture, glass, lawn ornaments, clothing. . . and oh yes, one booth with some knitting! As much as I liked some of the wall-art–and there were some lovely things–I still have a hard time spending $400 or so on something to just hang on my wall. Not because I don’t think the artist put a lot of vision and skill and time into it . . . I know better! But . . . there are just other things I’d rather spend that kind of money on!

Like, for example, this:

Or a pair of these:

Or even, one of these! Any guesses as to what it is??

We had a good day, though. Have I mentioned, at all, that my Mom is one of my best friends? We invariably do something together every Saturday; sometimes shopping, sometimes just coffee, sometimes errands . . . but almost always something, just the two of us. (Although sometimes, depending on where we’re going and the weather and all those kind of things, we’ll bring Chappy along.) We have fun together, and it’s really not that much of a surprise that I still live with my parents. How great is it when you can truly enjoy your parents’ company when you’re an adult? I don’t ever want to regret that I didn’t spend enough time with them while I had the chance; they’re both great people, and our household ticks along very nicely, we three adults and Chappy. (It works out particularly well for my Dad–I keep Mom company when he’s off golfing, so she doesn’t get as lonely as some of his friends’ wives and he therefore gets to golf as much as he likes. His golfing buddies tell him he’s married to a saint!)

Speaking of my parents, they had an early-morning surprise this morning. Chappy–who is privileged to sleep on my bed on weekends–decided to get up early this morning. He didn’t bother to wake me up, oh no, he instead somehow managed to open my bedroom door and trot down the hallway to blow kisses at his Grandma. As in, leaning against the bed, nose in the air, and giving licks that couldn’t quite reach her face. Now, how he managed to open my door is a mystery. I mean, it doesn’t actually latch closed anymore–ever since I painted my room three years ago, the extra millimeter or so of paint on the trim has apparently kept the latch from fully, well, latching. So, sure, he can push it open from the outside any time he wants. But once we’re inside the room, you’d think it would be a whole ‘nother story! Apparently, he can–sometimes–push the door just so, so that it bounces back enough for him to squeeze his nose in the crack and swing it open. Sort of like those magnet latches on stereo cabinets and medicine chests–the quick, press-and-release kind.

So, at 6:19 this morning, Chappy opened the door and went visiting down the hallway. Once he woke his grandmother up, he trotted around to his grandfather’s side of the bed and promptly stole one of his socks from the floor. I, of course, was blissfully sleeping, secure in the knowledge that it was Saturday and I didn’t have to get up for work, but . . . what was that I’m hearing? A urgently whispered, “Chappy! Chappy!” down the hallway?? I cracked open my eyes to see that the door was open, and was just sitting up to go on a rescue mission (as in, rescue the parents from the impatient grandpuppy) when Mom ushered Chappy back in the room and shut the door.

Silly dog! I keep telling him, there are only three good reasons to get up in the middle of the night: Fire. Going to the bathroom. And getting a fresh book.

Sure, you might laugh at that last one, but that’s the main reason I ever roam the halls at night. We’ve never been a midnight-snack kind of family, and I’m a sound sleeper, so once I’m asleep, I’m gone. However, I DO like to read in bed, and on weekends especially, when I don’t have to get up early the next morning, I’ll let myself stay up as long as I want, reading. Last night, for example, I finished the book I was reading at 1:26 a.m. It’s a probably odd personal quirk of mine, though, that I cannot go to sleep unless I have an “active” book next to my bed, ready to pick up as soon as I get up the next morning. By which I mean, fiction–I usually have an assortment of non-fiction going at any given time, but try to keep the fiction down to one novel at a time–and it’s usually the fiction that keeps me up late.

Anyway, so when I left my room at 1:27 this morning, I was amazed at what I saw outside the window–snow on all the trees! Now, we basically had the snowy equivalent of a drizzly day yesterday–it snowed on and off all day, but all it really did was make the roads wet. That apparently changed last night, because at about 1:30 when I looked out the window, there was a veritable winter wonderland out there. Every tree branch I could see had at least an inch of snow on it. It looked absolutely lovely! Of course, it was all gone, fallen to the ground, by the time I woke up this morning. (Well, woke up the second time, around 8:00.)

All in all it’s been a pleasant Saturday. My Koigu socks are almost done, too. Maybe, another half-inch on the ribbing on the cuff, and they’ll be ready to cast off. They’re looking good, too, although I think I made them just a LITTLE too big, just a few too many stitches on the needles, but no real problem.

I also ran that Gotland wool through the wash again, and am hoping that that really does it this time. (At least, the water wasn’t as tea-like as it was last time, even if there was still a little silt at the bottom after that last rinse. I’m starting to be personally skeptical that it’s even remotely possible to actually clean raw wool. I mean, sure, this is much cleaner than it was, but it’s still not what I would really call clean . . . and since this makes it, what, 7 washer-fulls of soap and water . . . I don’t really see how I’ll ever get it actually clean! (But then, I still don’t see how it’s possible to really clean a floor either, unless you can sluice it with buckets of truly clean water to rinse away the dirt–and let’s face it, who can do that in a kitchen? I have yet to find a cleaning method or cleaning “tool” that really picks UP the dirt and removes it from the floor entirely . . . every wet method I’ve ever tried just moves it around a little . . . )

Tags: Chappy, Family, General // 4 Comments »