Knitting content on a knitting blog is a *good* thing

I loeave for FL on Sunday night. I'm not ready at all--even the Great Wall of Mama is still blank.



I wanted to finish with my KALs before I left (well, aside from Mariah, which is stalled at 4 line in to the first sleeve). I'm slowly making progress on my Industrial Monkey for the Not Yarn Along, but knitting with audio tape is a pain. Literally. Think of knitting with cotton, only 10 times worse. I can manage about 2-3 rows a day before I start hurting all up and down my right arm. Good thing the KAL is through August.


One thing I do love on this project is my nifty yarn bobbins

The other KAL is the Kippalong. The pattern is not written for bulky cotton, so I'm playing it by ear.

Attempt #1 (how to turn a silk purse into a sow's ear):



The Spouse's reaction? "Even my head isn't that pointy. What is that, a kippah for a Keebler elf?"

Attempt #2 (snarky comment still to be decided upon):





I picked up my father's birthday gift, a case for the megillah The Spouse wrote him 5 years ago.



The text has my father's name, the date of the party, and the saying "At 80 comes courage." I think we should have gotten a silver case instead of olivewood, but I was overruled. That's OK, I was just the writer of the text and the shlephorse who went and got the thing. My sister can take the blame, if there is any, for choice of materials.

The other thing I got down for my trip was the head scarf to match my good skirt. I'm getting better with the weave, but really need to work on my selvages.




I finally got with the local fashion program yesterday and bought myself a sack (along with 2 seersucker skirts, but those The Spouse made me buy. He's such an impulse buyer...)



I told The Spouse I wanted it for its wide strap, since the narrow little strap on mine, combined with the weigth I carry, was hurting my shoulder. After we bought the bag we were walking down Yaffo Road, and as we start to cross the X Junction The Spouse starts in on me that I should start using my new bag. "But it'll be such a pain. I have to start pulling things out of the old one, transferring them to the new..." I say, trying to explain Flogic.

A women turns to us, and in NY English says: "Mens just don't understand sacks."

Poor Spouse almost bust a gut. "We don't understand *what*?"