I started working again on the Baby Albert (Einstein?) that I had to rip back a few posts back on Sept. 22. (Yikes, has it really been that long?)
Here’s where it stands (lays) now:
Notice how the top pieces are not pulling in any longer? It’s not even pinned in that shot! That’s ’cause I did some increases when I picked up stitches on that edge: 1 increase for every 4 stitches.
OK, so I also mentioned previously that I was gonna make the whole thing bigger, and so I did. The “skirt” part that is the bottom of the sweater grew to 22.5 inches (from the original bottom, which was 19.5 inches long). And the bodice back, which used to measure 7.5 inches, is now like this:
That’s 10.5 inches, folks! Much better, yes? Yes.
Hey, wait a minute, with 13 charity “squares” knit in October and now actual project knitting, can it be possible that I’ve been re-mojoed? (What do you mean, “re-mojoed” isn’t a word? I can only reply with this: It is now!)
Last week, I went to visit the BC20 and la petite princesse, plus Shane and Julie, at their apartment. When I got there, the baby was sitting in her high chair, noshing on a baby cracker. She gave me a big, slightly messy grin when I pulled out the camera and here’s the result:
Her teeth waited a long time to start coming in, then made her (and everyone in her immediate vicinity) miserable while they punched through her gums. As you can see, the bottom front two made it all the way and I could feel at least one of the top ones peeking through, too. (Why, yes, I did do that thing where you stick your grimy reasonably-clean-but-far-from-sterile fingers in the baby’s mouth and feel for teeth. Why do you ask?)
Released from the high chair, she was everywhere. Such a fast crawler! She is, of course, pulling up on the furniture and the people around her. Wonder how long it will be till she’s making her parents chase her all over walking?
And just to round out the post, I have some sleeping kitty pix. No new ones of Trouble, because he has not come home yet. (Sad, but we’re not giving up hope. He’s used to living outdoors, so he may wander back to us soon. Knock on wood.)
Here’s sleeping Smut, not on the couch:
And here’s sleeping Chewie, in his new cat bed. Technically, it’s for all the pusses, but Chewie seems to have claimed it. He was reluctant to get in it when it was brand new, so I put a familiar blanket in it, one my mom got as a thank-you from the American Humane Society. He’s laying on it here:
It’s not all snoozin’ with those two. Here they are in another shot, one that shows another of their other favorite activities:
The sun is coming up and I have to start making moves toward my amazing waterbed soon, if I want to get enough sleep before work tonight, that is. And I do. Too many days of getting by on less than 6 hours of sleep have taken a toll on me. In fact, I was so tired, so pooped, I couldn’t drag myself out of bed on Saturday to go to my first singing rehearsal of the holiday season. A rehearsal I was so looking forward to, y’all, it nearly crushed me to have to miss it. Instead of singing with my friends, I went back to sleep and racked up another 5 hours of sack time before I got up. That made 10 hours total on Saturday, which tells me loud and clear that I was flat-out exhausted. My mom has always said, “If you sleep that long, it’s because you need it,” and she was right.
To avoid slipping back into that kind of sleep deficit, I’m going to bed much earlier today. And even if I read for an hour (and finish my book!), I’ll still get plenty of sleep.
… Which is my rather long-winded way of saying, “G’night, everyone!”