And this is what I am knitting. A woolen, be-slip-stitched, smooshy rectangle that will either be for someone’s baby, or a lap-blanket for myself. As of yet undecided.
Anyway, Grady, my father and I are on a little vacation. Most of the posts you’ll be getting over the next few days were written and scheduled last week.
Unless, of course, the remainder of this sojourn’s nights are like this one. Where grady slowly scooches me over to the precarious ledge of our shared bed while subconsciously synchronizing her snoring/sleep-wiggling patterns with her grandpa from across the room.
I surmise that the next few nights I will read in bed until I can’t stomach another paragraph of this wonderful book, tweet until I feel guilty about my output, write until my hand cramps, ashamedly beg a fellow texter/chatter to e-keep me e-company, consider other forms of distraction (typing, knitting, cleaning) until remembering that even those quiet activities will likely awaken the kraken baby, complete a couple crosswords, dig through my phone for other forms of entertainment, and then give up and write (from my phone) a boring, lengthy blog post.
In either case, I apologize.
