And not a minute too soon, either. I'm off to a party for the recipients, two little twins - Zoe and Daniel - born to Miriam (she of the rabbit hat) and her husband.
They're the baby bib from Mason-Dixon Knitting, and I have to say, I have a conflicted relationship with the Mesdames Mason-Dixon. On one hand, their blog and their books are funny - really funny.
On the other hand, I can't imagine a universe in which I would want to knit a garter stitch rug. I'm not such a huge fan of garter stitch, despite the fine work of Brooklyn Tweed and Elizabeth Zimmerman, and "knitted rug" seems like the fiber-arts definition of eternity, not two people and a ham.
So why do I have their linen lace curtain on the needles and four baby bibs in a gift bag? I'm not sure. I do know the baby bibs were just what I needed to knit when Jamie insisted I spend all my waking moments sitting on the rug so he could periodically cling to me, limpet-like, before rolling off to lick electrical sockets, grab the cats' feet and try to ingest entire books.
Garter stitch is great to knit under those conditions - you can throw your knitting down in case you suddenly have to race across the room and confiscate an entire vacuum cleaner, rescue a cat or prevent a baby from pulling a snare drum over on top of himself.
(OK, the last thing wasn't actually preventable, and Jamie managed to miss himself entirely with the drum, so I think the crying was mostly because of the scary noise and not an actual injury, much like the time the cats knocked over a stack of tambourines at 3 a.m. What? Doesn't everyone have a stack of tambourines?)
The buttons are from the late Grandma Fool's button box and now that I have to leave for the city and am still sitting here in my pajama pants and a fleece pullover, Jamie has fallen asleep on my lap for a much-needed morning nap.