Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Pinko the Wave

Happy St. Patricks Day! I'm wearing no green, unless turquosish counts (these are my pretty blue monkeys all finished) but I'm working on my Print o' The Wave Stole for the ZPDK knitalong so I'm all good. I like to call my Print o' the Wave, Pink o' the Wave, because it's pink, and isn't a pinko like a socialist or something? The way stuff is going now I'm leaning towards the socialists. I mean we aren't hearing how the executives in France and Canada are taking million dollar bonuses from the taxpayers are we? But I digress. Here's Pinko the Wave!
I started early, I did not knit all of that today. I needed a head start because I'm slow. And I was in between projects that I wanted to work on so I just started it. There was an article in Interweave Knits about how I don't have to justify starting stuff, so I won't! :)

This is the Biological Clock sock from Eclectic Sole. Did I mention how kick ass that book is? It took FOREVER to knit the plain old stockinette foot from the toe up and I was so excited to start knitting cables that I skipped the first two charts and started on chart three. Ooops. Last night at knit night at the library I pulled it out and started on chart one. It's gonna look cool, although due to my inept photography you can't tell yet.Some other random pictures? This is from the laundry catastrophe I think I mentioned a while ago. The jug sprung a leak. Yikes.And this is my baby boy's basketball team. They went undefeated until the last game which they lost by 3 points in overtime. See number 11? He's a senior. Here's a good story. He's a good kid, no trouble, good grades and at lunch one day, because he's a teenager, he decides to take the bet that he won't be able to drink an entire gallon of milk at lunch. I know, not bright, but harmful to no one other than potentially himself. So he's chugging away at the milk, the entire cafeteria is cheering him on, the lunch ladies catch wind of it, stop him and get this . . . . . .the authorities that be, suspend him. Ridiculous. My husband the coach, gave him the "Golden Milk Jug" award at the last game in honor of his supberb milk drinking effort. The kid said he almost finished it, about an inch left in the bottom of the jug and he was sure he would've made it because he was past the puking stage. You gotta love teenage boys! Number 4 is my boy. And the guy with no number is the husband.

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