This past week I took one step forward and about ten steps back with my Rosewater shawl. I knit 8 rows of the lace pattern only to discover I had made a mistake on row 6. I tried to rip it out stitch by stitch but as we all know, that doesn’t always work with lace. Needless to say, I ended up ripping out 8 rows and I became so frustrated that I shoved it in a drawer and cast on for a pair of socks for Eddie. I needed something simple. Mindless. It’s a basic sock pattern and I’m not crazy about the yarn (pills horribly and doesn’t retain its shape) but I have about six skeins of it, I’m trying to use it up and it seems like children’s socks are a good way to do so. Plus, her feet are growing so quickly I figure she will outgrow the socks before the yarn starts to wear out.
I splurged and purchased some lovely knitting notions from Never Not Knitting. They have brass stitch markers in these beautiful pill boxes, so I purchased one set of regular stitch markers and one set of removable stitch markers. I also ordered their Tudor Rose scissors which are so sweet and possess a wonderfully vintage look, as well as a bottle of their wool soap. The soap is from a company called Twig & Horn, which I had never heard of. It’s sold in this beautiful glass container, which I can’t wait to repurpose after the soap is gone. I chose the rosewood scent, not because I knew what rosewood actually smelled like, but because I liked the sound of it. Turns out, I made the right decision. I can’t wait to wash my woolens in it!
It’s quiet right now in the house, which is almost unheard of these days. Gabe took Sam to run an early morning errand and Caleb and Eddie are still abed. I could be getting a head start on my chores this morning, but instead I’m sitting in our office, drinking coffee, typing away, and listening to the sprinklers watering my garden. It’s peaceful. It’s calm.
Scratch that…I can hear Eddie stirring in her bed…
My day has begun.
Happy knitting, everyone.
I have managed to find some time to pick up the Rosewater shawl here and there and I have finally hit the lace portion of the pattern. It’s not complicated at all, but it is lace so I try not to work on it when the kids are jumping all over me…which is hardly ever.
The chickens are laying five or six eggs a day and free range every day. Free ranging is wonderful for many reasons. They aren’t pooping in the chicken tractor all day, which means we don’t have to move it more than once a week. We haven’t even had to clean the inside area where the brood boxes are because they hardly spend any time in there, except to lay an egg. They spend most of the day hunting for bugs and worms in the field and rarely touch the chicken feed we give them, which can be quite expensive. We feed them scraps from the kitchen and I think they may enjoy pancakes more than my own kids. While they are certainly not the most cuddly pets, the kids get a kick out of them and I love their eggs, so win-win.
It’s funny how change can sneak up on you. I managed to plant some lettuce, herbs and a few quick growing veggies, like carrots and radishes before Caleb was born but for some reason it seemed like the seeds just weren’t doing much. Last year it was as if I had veggies popping up overnight. This year weeks have gone by without even a single green sprout, or so it seemed. A few days ago I went outside and discovered that I had sprouts everywhere. My radishes are almost ready to be picked. My strawberry planters are overflowing with strawberries. My hydrangeas are in full bloom. When did all this happen?!
Likewise with my babies. Caleb looks the same to me as he did three weeks ago but when I load my pictures onto the computer from my camera and look back at all the images, I can see how much he’s changing on almost a daily basis. Sam has lost all of his delicious toddler pudge (the chunky thighs…the dimples on his chubby hands) and its becoming painfully obvious that he’s no longer a baby or a toddler. He’s…sniff…a little boy. Eddie is well, still toddler…her clumsy gait and the sound of her disposable diaper rustling under her shorts when she walks is music to my ears, I must confess. Her thighs are practically edible, there’s so much meat on them, and she still has her own baby smell (or is that Desitin? Hard to say). I might put off potty training her this summer just so I can pretend she’s not getting any older.
Actually, scratch that. Our trash is 90% diapers, 10% Other. She needs to be potty trained.
Happy Tuesday, friends.