We've been bouncing along in a pleasant busy bubbliness of holidays and vacations for a few weeks now and I keep completely forgetting about the blog. Which is probably a good sign, overall, about my level of relaxation, but which doesn't make me entirely happy, since I tend to find the longer I haven't posted, the more weight seems to attach itself to the next post in my mind and the harder it therefore is to get on with it.
I'm fighting back with an early morning brain dump before Mr. Right and I set off for something I never quite expected to do: 4 days just the two of us, a plane ride away.
Mr. Pants is not happy. I feel a little bad. (He's becoming such a sweetheart! He picked out earrings for me for Christmas - modern doodley hearts inside of circles, which he explained were hearts inside of "thought bubbles". He makes a big show of hating pink and purple and especially princesses, which make him want to throw up, but he adores hearts. "They mean love.")
Shmoogie is not entirely happy, either, but it's tricky to tell because she's showing it by refusing to allow me to give her a kiss or a hug. She's three. Very very three. We spent ages in the school parking lot the other day as she struggled valiantly, if rather ineffectively, with the seatbelt. Shrieking and swatting away my attempts to assist, however subtle. "I do it myself!!!!"
I've got a new app in the wrap-up stages and this one's for knitters! (As I think I've alluded to before?) I'm quite excited about it when I'm not filled with self-doubt or anxiety about the coming (final!) semester. Hopefully you'll see an announcement here sooner rather than later.
And I think that brings me to a close. A week ago, we were running down the first flight path at Kitty Hawk, imagining the Wright Brothers' triumph. Barely a hundred years and the skies are filled with planes. Planes filled with ordinary people like me, and their knitting. Wondrous world this is.