I will not be seeing “The Art of Racing in the Rain.” I can’t even think about the book without feeling the face pain I get when I cry like a cheerleader, and I didn’t even read the book. (I read “Racing in the Rain”, which is the young adult version of TAoRitR. When I finished RitR, I had to close my bedroom door and do a quick Sob ‘n’ Nap.) This morning I watched an interview with the actors from the movie, and I could barely get through the interview without inflicting TMJD upon myself. I’m medicated to the point where I’m physically incapable of crying, and someday I’m going to blow up like a gigantic combustible teapot.
(Also: Mass shootings. I’m pissed. We should all be pissed. I’ve reached the point where I think things like, “Well, if I’m meant to die in a white guy terrorist attack, I’m meant to die in a white guy terrorist attack.” Thinking things like that used to be akin to “If I’m meant to die by slipping on the bathroom floor and falling forehead first onto the horn of a baby rhinoceros…” Anymore, it’s akin to “If I’m meant to forget my debit card when I go to the grocery store…”)
I’m back from Chicago and it may have been my happiest Stitches Midwest experience yet. We tried on sweaters and rubbed yarn against our necks and ate cheesecake and I said the F word a lot (always appropriately) in front of my mom because we’re buddies.
Pictured above is the potential for four sweaters and three cowls. The three grey speckled skeins in the second column will be wound first so that I can dress like this in the fall:
(Actually, I’ll probably put a long-sleeved shirt under the sweater and wear it with jeans so I can be a little Gilmore Girls about it.)
Not pictured above is the linen Christmas yarn that will enable me to look like this in a year or so:
School starts tomorrow and we now have a freshman and a junior in the house. Let’s go ahead and call it fall, which means it’s time for marching band competitions, and Thanksgiving is right around the corner. I need to get started on that sweater.