Yesterday was swamped. I was so busy at work it felt like I was stealing time to visit the bathroom. By the end of the day I was essentially brain dead. And I still had to drive home. Actually I had to drive to my sisters house, which is good, because I had to actually pay attention to where I was going. I do this thing sometimes where I get on autopilot. A bad case of autopilot can take me to work on a Sunday, or on a really bad weekday to somewhere I worked 5 or 10 years ago. I wish I could explain this, but I just get in the car and go where I need to go. Only I don’t really pay enough attention to realize what I am doing. If I ever have memory issues, I am toast. Absolute toast. Pray for my kids eh?
I am still knitting the socks I started at the Yarn Harlot party. I am still on sock one of the pair, although I am past the heel, and that in itself gives me considerable relief. It is fitting well, and looking very nicely plain sock like. Just like an obedient plain sock should look. Only I must have some kind of mental issue, because it is also beginning to look like a canvas for some extraordinarily inappropriate duplicate stitching. Stitchers should not turn to knitting for relief for this very reason. I will do my best to own a perfectly beautiful pair of plain rust colored socks.
Life with boy has become distressingly stubborn. I know there is absolutely no set age where a perfectly adorable child whom you adore turns into a little monster (that you still adore) but boy is at that age. If you want to do something, ANYTHING, he does NOT want to do that thing. He wants something until he has it. He rats out his sister for giving him "mean looks" and thinks it is funny when she gets yelled at for anything. (He used to sympathy cry, even when she got in trouble for being mean to HIM!) Things they are a changing at the ole mintlatte home front, and I am a touch disturbed. I am hoping said changes will be short lived, and the summer outdoor livin’ neighborhood tribe of children will carry on as happily as always, but should my son remain in beastly form, he will likely continue to be left inside with us, while the rest of the tribal community forages garage freezers for flavor-ice pops. I really think our house will not be a happy one if he is ousted from the tribe. I am thinking the next weekend with warm weather I will have extra sweets on hand to entice the tribe to take him along. Maybe tribal exposure will get him over the attitude.
And that wraps up today’s bout of random thoughts and blenting, tune in another time for hopefully crafty related content.