It seems a lot happens and nothing happens and it all feels busy.
George just learned to ride his bike on two wheels. Jay took him up a tiny, gently sloping grassy hill (and I stress it was tiny) and let him go. George sailed down to the bottom and braked. That was it. He was off, pedaling in a straight line and braking. Later, he learned how to push off under his own power and how to corner. By George, he’s got it! Well done little guy, you rock!
Having officially finished pre-school last week, George and I have been finding our new speed at home. His first day home, he rode his bike for a while and we baked cookies that I found at Green Dragonfly. This recipe had haunted my thoughts for days so we finally put it together, and um, yes, they are pretty delicious. White chocolate, cranberries and oats. A good mix. Our very casual strawberry patch is yielding delicious berries for which we compete with the pesky yet cute chipmunk. The garden is green and big. Too big.
For the last several weeks (it feels that way anyway) I’ve been knitting a summer shrug. I haven’t enjoyed it much at all. It’s knitted flat and for such a small garment seems to have hundreds of ends to sew in. Every edge curls and there’s seaming (screams in horror). I’m making it in Knit Picks fingering cotton which I thought would be a good choice for a summer garment. I’ve been forcing myself to finish it because it’s something I actually need for my summer wardrobe. I just have to do the arm hole ribbing and it will be done, but oh boy, it’s a slog. Edited to add: shrug is finished and blocking and I’ve cast on socks in that gorgeous green-blue merino sock yarn. Yum. Much happier knitting. Almost.
A few days ago while doing an extremely mundane task that involved fastening something shut I somehow hurt the muscles or tendons in my right palm. I’m able to knit but it hurts and of course, it needs rest to heal properly, but it’s my right hand. I use it all the time. Grrrr.
We continue to walk and look for our Abby cat. Thank you for your comments. I’m hoping she’ll come lolliping home with a devil-may-care gait, but it’s been three nights and still not a sign. It’s funny how I think I hear her and dash outside to give her a wag of my finger. I went to feed her last night, can in hand, and then realized nope. George has declared she is dead.
Heather will finish school next week and then we’ll be in full summer vacation mode. We have lots of activities planned. Now, if it would just stop raining on us.
Caio!
