I wonder if I lived in Seattle and could actually go to Archie McPhee, if I would have any money left at all.
I should get some kind of dumbness prize. I went to NPJ today and picked up my copy of Little Knits.
You guys. It is the cutest knitting book in the world!!! I bought yarn to knit Princess P a red chenille riding jacket from it.
It should bridge the gap between her English riding helmet and her ostrich cowboy boots. She loves her boots so much that she wears them to church with her dress. She could wear the riding jacket to church, too.
So, you ask, why does getting the cutest knitting book in the world deserve a dumbness prize? Because it's just one more proof that my brain lives in some fantasy world of parallel universes, each with its own 24 hour day, while my knitting ability lives in this universe, where there is an hour or maybe two of knitting time on a normal day.
Look at this list.
Maybe I just feel overwhelmed because I spent the afternoon soaking and peeling cardboard off the subflooring in my kitchen and wiping up the slimy leftover glue and wasting four hours driving around to Trusty's groomer and the flooring store and even through NPJ was fun, it was 45 minutes in the opposite direction from the flooring store, and I have a rotten cold and I can't breathe.