This late posting comes to you via Mr. Marcus, who is two today. It was a very busy morning opening presents and listening to a small boy squeal in delight at his Peppa the Pig figures. They are off this morning for preschool orientation for Mr. Marcus' big sister. Honestly, it was hard to tell who was more excited today.
And then there was knitting. As in none. It has been two days since I picked up needles and knit. And with everything I am, I can feel it. It's funny how this isn't an addiction (it isn't) and yet, the days seem just incomplete somehow if I didn't make time to knit a little. My day feels like a cake without icing. Like poutine without the cheese. It feels as if some vital ingredient is missing. It tastes ok, but it isn't anything to write home about.
I have been thinking of knitting, though. A lot. I've been looking at patterns and deciding what to knit next, and do I want a cozy warm fair isle vest of do I want a soft blue pullover? Lots of questions, many answers, and nary a decision in the mix.
Today is a quiet day for me. I don't have kiddies to watch, so I am going to attack Isaac's sweater and get the zipper in before I lose my nerve.
That is the plan, no putting it aside. If I wait longer he will grow out of it before I get it to him.