Rather than make you endure a bemoaning of my current state of can't really move because I threw out my back and I'm pretty sure this level of pain should only be finished off with a sweet newborn to hold, I will tell you what I am knitting and reading. Neither of which are at all easy when one is lying flat on their back on the floor for the better part of two days. I'm whiny. I know. It's really bad. I haven't slept in a couple of days and last night it sounded like I was giving birth again. And Brian gave me some super legal pill that at one point was prescribed for someone in this house that will either make this post genius or gibberish. Not sure which. Would you say a prayer for me? Brian has been wonderful and I'm so grateful for how he so willingly takes over the running of the house and that he is blessed with such a flexible job and understanding employees.
Well, then. I am currently knitting something for myself! I decided I liked the idea of a cowl when I was knitting them for my sibling in laws so that's on the needles at the moment. I'm using a 50/50 wool alpaca blend from Asana. I bought it the other day after Brian gave me a basket for Christmas with four different skeins of yarn and a pattern book he had picked out with instructions to "make something for yourself." To which I graciously replied, "you have the receipt, right?" Ever the kind loving wife I am. (I'm kidding. I didn't say that. I was super touched that he ventured into the yarn store and caressed and carefully selected yarn for his nerdy wife. I wish I had a picture of it. But I did exchange them all as Brian knew I would. But he just couldn't stand the idea of me opening a gift card. Or he secretly loves caressing yarn.)
I'm on the last quarter of The Dirty Life by Kristin Kimball. It's great. I think I may have Brian try to read it, if only in an attempt to make gourmet cooking for your wife sound really manly and appealing. The book is making me want a cow but at the same time scares me away from entering into any more farmish type of endeavors. I feel old and tired already. I think I'd just rather have Essex Farm next door and let them cook liver and heart and kale and nettle that they make sound so delicious. But that could be the drugs talking.
Looks like gibberish won out. Thanks for the prayers, friends. If there's any intentions for which you'd like for me to use this pain, please let me know.
Go see Ginny and other much more coherent and lovely ladies!