106 years

I just saw and read this story about a 106-year-old woman who still knits blankets for hospitalized children. I would love to be that woman someday. The story gives me good feelings all over.

I've been commissioned to make a sweater. Many knitters will shudder when they read that the sweater is to be a men's V-neck pullover in stockinette stitch, made with fingering weight yarn on size 3 needles at 6.5 stitches to the inch in charcoal grey. But I'm enjoying myself. The yarn is a delicious 50/50 alpaca/wool blend. Super soft! And the basic stitch means I can multitask. I took the project to the art gallery with me last weekend. That was rather fun, strolling around, admiring art, and keeping my hands pleasantly occupied with super soft knitting. I'm nearing the end of the first skein, and I'm 8.25 inches up the back.

I was totally sick in bed with something flu-like for the last two days. Evan was wonderful to me the whole time, offering back rubs and soup and tea, even though his first exam for Human Structure and Function is looming on Monday. He gets major fiancé points. I'm about 90% healthy today. Still a little stuffy and a little sleepy, but the sore throat, achiness, and extreme fatigue have gone (I must have slept 17 hours on Tuesday), and the swollen glands have mostly subsided. I always take for granted how I feel when I'm healthy: that I'm-alert-and-aware-and-happy-to-be-here feeling. It's so refreshing when it comes back after leaving for a while.

Jude is getting more determined about getting out. He's not allowed to be out, according to the rules of our apartment lease. He recognizes the sound of the key in the lock, and dashes over to the door, and slinks there, crouched low with his nose pressed against the door crack. So now when I enter the apartment, I make sure to shoo Jude away from the door with my foot before opening it enough for me to enter. Evan has not yet accepted this practice, and so Jude has a better escape record when Evan's opening the door. At least there's a hallway outside our door, rather than our door opening straight to the outside, and at least Jude doesn't spaz and run away when we scoop him up to return him to his rightful place.