Or, to Pittsburgh and Back Again....
It was a good Christmas, despite Santa passing out germs to good little girls and boys this year. The Fool's mom had a sore throat which got so bad we couldn't make it to Christmas Eve services, which I know disappointed her because she loves the carols. The Fool's brother got the same cold for Christmas. The Fool came down with something mysterious - gastrointestinal issues and a fever and chills - and spent the night before Christmas alternately clinging to me on the sofabed for warmth or taking off all his clothes. He is still not fully recovered, poor guy, but is not taking his clothes off every 15 minutes either, so that's an improvement.
We spent a lot of time visiting with the Fool's grandmother, who is 84 and who used to knit and crochet like a madwoman back in the day. She has several afghans and many, many pairs of Mrs. Cashdollar's Housebooties to her credit, as well as a lot of other knitted goodies.
The Fool and I spent a day in the kitchen, making his mom a big pot of beef stew, which we froze in individual servings for her, and then crabcakes and vegetables and garlic toast for dinner. All this activity in the kitchen (and the accompanying dish washing) taxed the sink a bit, so we got to engage in some holiday plumbing. We were both trying to be very nonchalant, like we unclogged sinks every evening, but inside, all I could think was, "What the hell are we going to do if we have to find a plumber on Christmas Eve?"
Also, when I'm under a lot of stress, I tend to giggle inappropriately, so there we were, each with a plunger in hand, plunging away at the double sinks, trying not to splash water on the curtains, per Mama Fool's request, me snorting like a loon. We finally broke the clog, but our celebration was muted by having to bleach the sinks (Mama Fool did not like us using germy toilet plungers in the kitchen sinks. Then we had to listen to her falsely accuse us of flushing all manner of strange items down the drain. Well. People think what they will, I suppose.)
We also got to see the Fool's dad and my half-brother and his wife -- all lovely visits and very enjoyable. Probably because we didn't have to show off our mad plumbing skillz for them and could just sit around and talk and eat cookies.
The Fool's mom liked her lace scarf, which I'm glad of. I hope she wears it and doesn't just put it away in a drawer.
Here's some photos of the finished product. I was going to take pictures of it while I was blocking it, but I blocked it on a blue bath towel.
It took one skein and a bit of Sea Silk, colorway Marine. I knit on a #6 Addi lace needle (love that needle) and it's a pattern from Victorian Lace Today, "Scarf with edging 21 and insertion 25 from 'The Knitted Lace Pattern Book, Thompson Bros., Kilmarnock, Scotland, 1850.'"
I cast it on while sitting on the beach in Cape Breton and cast it off sitting on my couch.
The end of the scarf with the edging. I wish I'd blocked the middle out a bit harder.
Closeup of the border.
Closeup of the middle portion.
Token cat photo to prove this is still a knitting blog. Angus has a bad habit (no, really? Just the one?) of hopping on peoples' laps when they sit down to dinner so he can get a look at what they're eating and decide whether he wants to ask for a bite. Just as an experiment, I offered him a strand of whole wheat fettuccine. It turns out that although fettuccine is not made of meat, his preferred treat, he'll eat it anyway.