making plans

These days, I get up at 5am so I can have 45 minutes of time alone sitting at the kitchen table, knitting and wishing I were drinking coffee.


Pictures from breakfasts past: There’s no sunrise in my 45 minutes yet, let alone actual sunlight. The cat hangs out with me a little, especially if it’s cold enough to run the floor heater.  But only sometimes, because she belongs to herself thanks very much.

The tally to date:  four tiny hats, a bowlful of tiny socks, most of a blanket everyone says is too grey and wooly for a little girl (rubbish) and nine tiny sweaters. And there are still two months to go.

Bill has it bad in his own way. He doesn’t knit and he doesn’t get up on weekdays until forced, but he’s out on the weekends building trellises for our summer garden in the shape of teepees and little huts. Can a three month old appreciate the glory that is a personal cucumber igloo in July? No, no she can’t.  Will she at 15 months? Probably.  Are these tiny structures then multiplying on the other side of my windows twelve months before their time?

No. It’s all for us before it’s for her.

The cat will like the empty, hidden places this summer. Particularly compared to how much she likes it when I try to make her wear the tiny socks. I have not acheived success in this to date, but plan to devote myself fairly exclusively to the task once my disability begins in April.

Category : growing stuff, knitting, pregnancy, where I live