So in between the never ending garter stitch of the Log Cabin
and the never ending stocking stitch of my sock, I have gotten the urge to learn to crochet. I’ve always been curious about it and love the way it looks as border, but ever since Yarn Thing showed me how to single crochet the edging on the Hippie Soaker, I’ve been obsessed. (Yes this is where the obsessiveknit thing comes from.)

I even bought Interweave Crochet (most of the patterns are so over my head!). I have to learn!

I have to make this sweater!
(I also need to make this sweater!) I’ve been playing around with some old acrylic trying to figure it out, but I think I’m going to have to ask for some help.

So funny story. We went to church yesterday (Sunday #2!) and they were video taping the service. Well, J chimed right in with his new ability to screech at superhuman pitches (he discovered the church echoed last week) so DH took him into the glass walled baby room while L stayed with me in the service. We were sitting in the back for a sneaky escape should we need one, so when communion time came around we were the very last people to go up. I received the bread and L got her blessing, but when it came time for wine, the server turned around and started packing up. So L and I are alone up at a the altar as some giggles started in the congregation. I leaned forward slightly and quietly said, “Psst!” Well our poor deacon saw me and was mortified and nearly ran across the floor bringing me the bread, which I’d already had. I quietly shook my head as she then waved the wine guy over. So I got my communion and the church got their morning giggles. The funnier part is that my family has been responsible for many many many congregation giggles since we were children. My brother had a habit of falling asleep when he was acolyting, my sister almost set her hair on fire (darn those 80s bangs!) and I had a habit of ringing the bell a little too loudly almost causing the poor elderly people in the front row to fall out of the pew.

Today has been somewhat of an adventure as well. Last week, we forgot L’s backpack for preschool and she’d had to use a plastic bag. This week, we made a point to make sure it was in the car. While I was strapping L in, I smelled something horrid but couldn’t quite figure out where it was coming from. It had rained on our trash so I thought it was just the garbage smells drifting over. When we arrived a school, I remembered to check her backpack to make sure it was empty. It sure wasn’t empty. My little nephew had been playing with it last week and apparently had left his sippy cup of chocolate milk in there. Which now had exploded sour milk all over the inside of her backpack. It was a lost cause. L had to use a plastic bag again and J and I made a trip over to Target to get her a new one. I felt I deserved a Starbucks even just to get the smell of sour milk out of my nose. We weren’t in the store 10 minutes before I dropped my coffee all over the floor in the middle of the electronics section. The sales lady was very nice about it, but I felt very bad. Like they really needed to have to clean up somebody’s mess in the middle of stocking the shelves. AND I lost my coffee. Sniff sniff. Hopefully the rest of the day perks up.