Kind of like my knitting. I have bounced restlessly from one project to another this weekend, started three different socks and ripping out two. I finished a mobius and I don’t like the finishing and I will rip that out too, but for now it is banished to the yarn room. I pulled out a cardigan to work on, the tangled yoke, and put it back. I am doing some mitered squares, because they are mindless. Nothing has my attention.
Maybe it’s because it’s my last week to be in my 40s, and I think my birthday will be a bust. Always seems to happen. And I don’t think it’s selfish to expect that one day a year will be all about me. 1 out of 365. DH and I had a blow out at dinner Friday night, the kids are on my nerves, and I don’t feel like working. Some kind of December malaise. I’m feeling blah, its cold outside and cold in my office.
And I feel bad for DH even though I am mad at him. His second cousin, who grew up with his dad (DH’s dad died 10 years ago), got sick with what was thought to be pneumonia. And he has been in the hospital, and in a drug induced coma, and they did a biopsy on his lungs because no medicines were working. And unbeknownst to the doctors, he had a series of strokes, which were masked by the pain medication. So this man, who my husband hunts with every year, and through a mess up, didn’t get to hunt with last month, is never expected to awaken. Pretty crappy.


I hope you are having a good December and are enjoying the holidays. I’m looking for that Christmas spirit. Can’t seem to find it yet.
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