The Banana Made Me Do It...

I would like to take this opportunity to publicly thank God for thinking up bananas and my husband for bringing them home. Between the bananas and the ginger ale, I am a new woman. I still have not gone back to see the baby, but I did knit. Just a little. I really dig the whole grafting the Rogue hood thing. It is not perfect, but I am pleased and will be more so after blocking. It was tempting to do the three needle bind off but I am glad I did not. And this is, after all, the "practice rogue", and not the last one I'll ever make I am sure.

I am generally back in love with it after my days of disaster. Between the duck and the shower and then the whole baby coming a month early thing and this Nora-rota-or-whichever virus on top of it?? I was really hating existence as a whole. Breathing became distasteful for a few hours there. So I got up this morning and had nothing better to do, and since I can't really go anywhere yet being still feeble of mind and body, I decided to take up my needles and embrace the Olympic spirit instead. I started the sleeves this afternoon. I still have no hope of finishing in time. Well....That's a lie..I have a glimmer. A faint distant glimmer. Either way I go down fighting. I got my groove back. My family is so far healthy, and I seem the only afflicted member for which I am grateful. I am compulsively cleaning every surface I have touched since Monday. Every time I sit at the computer I clean the keyboard and mouse with disinfecting wipes. I am determined that they will not "get it". I have even convinced my husband that it would be very very bad if I were to cook this week, as I might still be contagious.

Oh, this EVIL animal. Would you look at Resident Evil?? My poor BooBoo was walking across the floor coming to see momma and this evil, evil creature who was sitting benignly on the floor lunged at poor BooBoo and gave him a heart attack nearly. Look at how he attacks the poor innocent cat toy... he's...nuts! This morning I called him Mel-O-Drama after his mistress left for work and he sat on a stool in the kitchen and cried at me, then sat by the front door and cried more. Plaintive wail of the wounded Mel-O-Dramatic. He's like a freaking DOG! She's even taught him to sit, and last night she ordered him "Off!" my bed, pointing her finger to the floor...and he got down.