Last night I knit and watched a movie on the laptop with Sarafina, while poor Eric slept next to us. Even though we were using earphones, we're movie-talkers, and he found it amusing that we couldn't just watch quietly. Didn't keep him from snoring away. Being really sick will do that for you, I guess. Anyhow, I woke up this morning -- for the final time -- from a dream involving John McCain's tailless silent helicopter, about which I said, "No matter how cool it is, it's not worth sitting with him to get to ride in it." Subsequently in my dream, I was contacting a student in one of my classes, and going through someone's estranged father's custom-made study: drawers for everything, including old letters. I remember thinking, "I have more old letters than these; no matter how beautiful the cabinetry, this study isn't very practical."
I called the student up, and apparently the student's mother disapproved mightily of this Older Woman calling, even though I wanted to talk about the missing paper. And then I realized what I was riffling through the study for -- the perfect Blueberry Cinnamon Swirl Coffee Cake recipe!
In my dream I never found it, but on my run through the quiet streets this morning, I figured it wouldn't be that hard to do, so after I got home, I boiled eggs to assuage any guilt, and pulled a Bill Cosby. Behold, breakfast:
Not enough blueberries for the berry-lovers and too many for the berry-haters, but it is a compromise, even if it is a dream come true.
Before succumbing to the Land of Nod after the movie, I'd done the collar on this little beauty. I figured that it was all done, short of weaving ends and embroidering snowflakes.
Then Tor tried it on this morning, and in a medical miracle, apparently his arms have grown two inches overnight. Sigh. This entire stashbusting sweater has been a labor of knit, rip, reknit, rerip, and still it's getting done. Just a little slowly, and there are two skeins of green sock yarn wanting to be knit into Embossed Leaves and a rainbow Kauni still patiently waiting for attention.
This alpaca sweater fits Caterina very well, but when I suggested that she ask her brother if he still wanted it, and she interpreted that as an opportunity to prance in front of him wearing it and announcing, "Do you want this, because it fits me!" he screamed, "Mine! mine!"
It's nothing but amity and high level communication around here, I tell you. Let them eat cake.
Friday, March 6, 2009
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6 comments:
Ooh! That does look a dream. I love it when my dreams are achievable. I'm dreaming of knitting a sweater like that. Achievable? We'll see. Hey--I noticed you are using the things' names.
Mmmm, the cake looks gooo-oood! Love that little sweater - and I feel your growing pains, my younger daughter is growing right out of the sweater I currently have OTN. Grrr.
I hope you don't dream about liver tonight! The blueberry cake looks delicious.
For a moment I was transported into a Federico Fellini movie while I was reading your post--the dream and various images juxtaposed together...Sure--let them eat cake!
Mmmmmmmm....cake...
What else were you saying? I was distracted by the cake.
Ah, yes, you'd better consult a doctor about the strange arm-growing situation! It must be both gratifying and annoying to have them fighting over a sweater you made.
Darn it. Dumb blogger had me logged in wrong again. That was me.
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