I have too much too say and little time to say it, so here, in no special order are all the things I’d like to have the time to write a nice long post for but instead will give the abbreviated version:
1. Creativity and Four Year Olds.
(Photo taken by Little Man himself)
As Little Man is staring hard at another Lego creation:
Me: How do you know when it’s done?
Little Man: When it’s cool. It isn’t done yet because it’s still not cool.
So there you have it. How do you know when that special project is really done? When it’s cool.
2. A Problem
I really want to knit the Baby Surprise Jacket, toddler size. I have no idea how to size it up; I’ve never knit one before and I can’t figure out how to make it bigger when I’m not even sure from the picture how it all goes together. Suggestions? I want to stick with worsted weight as that’s what I’ve got, so sizing it up with bulkier yarn won’t work.
3. My Contest
My Flood Relief Contest is turning into a sad little contest with only two, yes TWO entries so far. That’s great for these fine knitters, who so far have a 50/50 chance of winning yarn but I am perplexed. Do knitters not like farmers? Not like vegetables? Not like Fleece Artist? Are they just procrastinators who know they still have 16 days to officially enter? (I did get lots of “good idea!” e-mails, but just two official entries) Is it the colorways? (Because I do think they’re lovely). Do I need to offer chocolate as well? (I will, you know, offer chocolate too.) Do you all spend your last $20 on coffee and sock yarn? I am truly perplexed.
I have dreams of being able to say “The knitters (and sewers, do I need fabric too? I’ve got it!) raised $500 for flood relief and so far we’re at $40. If everyone donated $5 each, think how much we could raise!!
There is no worse feeling than having to tell the tech at work that your child somehow broke your laptop screen by throwing some random object at it, which happened to then hit the screen in the two minutes you were not in the room with the Precious Laptop from Work, even thought you kept it up on the Very High Buffet, out of reach from little hands. Because you can tell the tech has no children, so you ramble and say stupid things like “Maybe it was a superball” and the tech keeps mumbling things like “Apple won’t warranty this” and “well, you get the prize this year.”
Amazingly, the tech brings you a new laptop. A crummy one that he can’t fit all you music on (a problem, since you’re the music teacher) but at least it’s a laptop. You leave it at work and happily come home to your hacked together IBM.