The tangled webs we wish we were skilled enough to weave...

Well, well, well....hubster just called from the company dr's office. It seems that the 20 lb. block of ice that fell from a two-story building's roof and landed on his head on Thursday (shut up and stop looking at me like that - why does everyone think I did it?) has been the cause of his, uh, interesting though processes over the weekend. A concussion....and a wrenched neck....what an excuse! Just kiddin. I liked some of his 'personality shifts', though. We started the weekend in an unusual way - we went OUt TO DINNER (and - it was his idea) and had CIVILIZED conversation over good food in a place where we didn't have to interrupt every bit to go load the wood stove to keep warm. Things 1, 2, and 3 were stuffing their faces so, thank you all divine things, they were quiet. As is usually the case, once we started to converse (it helped that we would have been too embarassed to start throwing food at one another in a public place) it became all too humiliatingly clear that we are on the same side, saying pretty much the same things, with gender and two very stubborn egos mucking it up in the middle. If it takes a block of ice to the head - then I guess it does.

Then we had our family trip to the library, where my 'special request' book (Folk Shawls) was waiting. I looked through it telling myself the whole time that I have four projects in progress, old x=mas knitting for some friends whom we are going to see next week to finish up, and a freaking blanket (for show-offs it is in the background of the pics) that now covers the bed and only needs about 1 foot around the whole thing to be a most awesome and entirely handspun crocheted king size blanket. Stop, woman, I said, just because shawls are your passion doesn't mean you have to be a total 'wh45re' for them. I was strong (course, all my lace wgt. yarn is upstairs in a tote). I poo=pooed the pics on all of them. Then, damn my soul, I read the intro to the scottish lace shawl. It has a mermaid. She is coming out of the sea and realizes she is, well, in her birthday suit, so she gathers the seafoam and makes it a lovely shawl to cover her. The island women take note of her astounding nakedness and beauty and start taking up the needles to make a lace shawl. Next thing I knew, I grabbed a beer, crawled my butt up the ladder to the loft, and was picking out the lace to knit the thing with...only I'm pretending she used 'seaweed' instead of foam because I look like death warmed over in light, foamy greens and blues. This was some hand-dyed I did last year - I called it 'dragon' then.....now, I call it the brink of insanity. But, as it is my night to stay up and load the stove (we only have to do this while we are experiencing these insane freeze-to-hell temps) and I can't possibly live with the guilt of making a wounded man do my job, I'll be a knitting by the fire!