Those words can be attributed to my father, Little Petey, as he has successfully manipulated me out of going to POD (my favorite restaurant) for MY birthday. Like I said earlier dad, kiss your Ipod and Spamalot tickets goodbye. I understand Dad that YOU don't like Pan-Asian Cuisine; but it is MY birthday. So I will not be eating Kreme and Kone with you for YOUR birthday. Maybe MCDonalds...
There it passed.
My fingers are nasty looking but starting to feel a little better 24 hours after the incident.
Molly has been renamed; Cujo. Aunt Trish prefers to call her "mollyjo." I think that might be too easy. If I remove the bandages I CAN knit. Of course I realized that I over decreased at some point in the feather and fan scarf and had to rip out today; but I think ripping out your knitting is just as important as those first 1000 stitches that you make. You have to be willing to go back and do it again, because lord knows if you don't you will just keep looking at the exact same place in whatever garment you are making saying, "look at the mistake I made."
Maggie continues to amaze me as she grows up into a dog. Friday she will be eight months old. Her new favorite past time is sitting on the couch in the lounge and looking out onto the world that is 46th Street. She will do this for hours at a time. It seems to have eased up some of the chewing. It must be calming for her.
I could write volumes about the goodness of mint oreos, but I won't.
Knitty D
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