How All Occasions Do Inform Against Me

I have been a tad less than cheery. Too many activities on the weekends. Too many school projects and meetings (it's parent teacher conference time). Too much finding out that 13 year olds really will slide down the path of least resistance. In Language Arts. And Science. And Phys Ed. And Spanish. (He's so intelligent, but - ) Entirely too much spousal overtime resulting in too much single parenting. I've reached the point of desperately wanting to shriek "Everybody just get away from me" entirely too often. This does not make for good knitting.

Ugh. Swatches.

Exhibit 1. Why I can't use a broken rib edge with this stitch.

Exhibit 2. The yarn's too bright and now I've knit with it I can't return it.

Further annoyances.

Exhibit 3. Shorter cables mean shorter needles and my yarn store was out of 24 inch US 8 circulars. (How can you be out of 24 inch US size 8 circulars. Isn't that like the grocery store running out of apples?)

Exhibit 4. This yarn, though lovely to touch, is too grey/purple.

Sorry to go all Gilbert and Sullivan on you all so soon. While I have not quite been willing to embrace the ethic of King Gama in Princess Ida, that " the days seem lank and long when all goes right and nothing goes wrong and isn't your life extremely flat when you've nothing whatever to grumble at," I have come perilously close.

So close that when I opened my front door to find a package leaning against it I was less than receptive. More of "Oh honestly. Now what? I didn't order anything." than "Ooh!" or "Ah!" or "I wonder what this could be?"

Guess what? It was a present. For me. From Shelley.

Isn't it lovely? Mountain Colors Twizzle in Lupine, although it makes me think more of twilight. What L.M. Montgomery calls "the Dim" in the Emily novels. I fell in love with Mountain Colors when Clare and I went on our one and only excursion to The Fold last November. More recently, on a trip almost as far northwest with Diane, I had lusted over some Twizzle at Gene Ann's, but came home empty handed - I don't remember that they had this color. Neither of these yarn stores could be called "local" by any stretch of the imagination, so I usually have to indulge in Mountain Colors vicariously or virtually.

I was completely deflated. So much for wallowing with the Melancholy Dane. I always knew I didn't like Hamlet.