[m4w] that's not funny

never lose the ability to laugh (1) at yourself and (2) with others.

humor is a vital part of healing.

and inconsistently present for me this weekend.

digging through a lot of stuff to try and find my very first christmas stocking, handknitted by mom, and also to find this weird cardigan I remembered that had a creeping (big)cat and the words "on the prowl" in the weave. I *did* find one (probably from the same series?) that had a rat and the words "dear diary, today was friteful". (Change the rat to Frank the Goat, and "diary" to "blog" and you might have something.) I did find all the old cotton yarn my sister promised would become a sweater for me someday. There are enough new knitters in my neighborhood that if I can't get a sweater (o so many dress sizes later) maybe I can get a blanket, assuming the yarn is still good. Let me know if you're interested. (And, if it IS good, then I'll fetch all the other unclaimed yarn the next time I visit family-ville.)

But, these searches meant uncovering a lot of old memories. Found a bunch of the wrong photos of pre-K me being overcome with kittens. Cute, sure. But not the one I remember.

Found a lot of old high school and 20something stuff. Uncomfortable. Every year, a little less hope. Sinking deeper into the rind, as described by one of the evil characters in... Perelandra, maybe? (C.S. Lewis would no doubt be thrilled that I remember the negative parts of his work.)

Meanwhile, I keep putting off the inevitable.

[m4w] that's not funny

never lose the ability to laugh (1) at yourself and (2) with others.

humor is a vital part of healing.

and inconsistently present for me this weekend.

digging through a lot of stuff to try and find my very first christmas stocking, handknitted by mom, and also to find this weird cardigan I remembered that had a creeping (big)cat and the words "on the prowl" in the weave. I *did* find one (probably from the same series?) that had a rat and the words "dear diary, today was friteful". (Change the rat to Frank the Goat, and "diary" to "blog" and you might have something.) I did find all the old cotton yarn my sister promised would become a sweater for me someday. There are enough new knitters in my neighborhood that if I can't get a sweater (o so many dress sizes later) maybe I can get a blanket, assuming the yarn is still good. Let me know if you're interested. (And, if it IS good, then I'll fetch all the other unclaimed yarn the next time I visit family-ville.)

But, these searches meant uncovering a lot of old memories. Found a bunch of the wrong photos of pre-K me being overcome with kittens. Cute, sure. But not the one I remember.

Found a lot of old high school and 20something stuff. Uncomfortable. Every year, a little less hope. Sinking deeper into the rind, as described by one of the evil characters in... Perelandra, maybe? (C.S. Lewis would no doubt be thrilled that I remember the negative parts of his work.)

Meanwhile, I keep putting off the inevitable.