Ugh. After knocking on wood that we would somehow escape the gastro that was passed around all weekend, Yannick calls me today to tell me he’s heading home at lunch time, sick. Poor thing has been in bed all day except for the bathroom runs. (OMG no pun intended!) And of course, ever since he mentions that he’s sick, now I’ve had stomach cramps all day. Luckily not sick yet *knocking on more wood* but I’ll wait and see how tomorrow goes.

I got a minor bit of knitting-related stuff done tonight. I started casting on for my fair isle headband. I’m doing my first-ever provisional cast on using cotton waste yarn which will later be unravelled to leave live stitches so I can graft the back (inside) of the headband closed to hide all the floats on the inside. It’ll make sense later, I promise.

The snowflake design I’m doing is 20 sts wide, but I want a few sts between so the snowflakes don’t touch, so I decided on 3 sts between each. After measuring my little swatch I found out that 23 sts is 4.5″ wide. Measuring around my head on the diagonal (like I would wear a headband) gives me roughly 22″-23″. I want to make this headband snug so it stays on, but I also know that my first attempt at fair isle will probably pull in quite a bit. I decided to chain 115 sts with the waste yarn (4.5″/repeat x 5 repeats = 22.5″, 23 sts/repeat x 5 repeats = 115 sts). This chain is rediculously long. It wraps around my head more than once. I know it’s loose though. If I do only 4 repeats of the pattern which is a total of 92 sts, it gives me a finished diameter of 18″. I don’t know if that’s too snug. I can also adjust at will by doing more or less sts between each repeat.

This is what I’ve done so far. The bright yellow (that doesn’t look yellow here) is my waste yarn, the charcoal color is the main color I’m picking up the sts in.

This is as far as I got tonight because my brother came over to talk about his relationship and I got a bit sidetracked. I think tomorrow I will keep picking up until I have 92 sts, hold it around my head and if it’s too small I will try to figure out another multiple of the repeat with a different # of sts between.

Ugh. After knocking on wood that we would somehow escape the gastro that was passed around all weekend, Yannick calls me today to tell me he’s heading home at lunch time, sick. Poor thing has been in bed all day except for the bathroom runs. (OMG no pun intended!) And of course, ever since he mentions that he’s sick, now I’ve had stomach cramps all day. Luckily not sick yet *knocking on more wood* but I’ll wait and see how tomorrow goes.

I got a minor bit of knitting-related stuff done tonight. I started casting on for my fair isle headband. I’m doing my first-ever provisional cast on using cotton waste yarn which will later be unravelled to leave live stitches so I can graft the back (inside) of the headband closed to hide all the floats on the inside. It’ll make sense later, I promise.

The snowflake design I’m doing is 20 sts wide, but I want a few sts between so the snowflakes don’t touch, so I decided on 3 sts between each. After measuring my little swatch I found out that 23 sts is 4.5″ wide. Measuring around my head on the diagonal (like I would wear a headband) gives me roughly 22″-23″. I want to make this headband snug so it stays on, but I also know that my first attempt at fair isle will probably pull in quite a bit. I decided to chain 115 sts with the waste yarn (4.5″/repeat x 5 repeats = 22.5″, 23 sts/repeat x 5 repeats = 115 sts). This chain is rediculously long. It wraps around my head more than once. I know it’s loose though. If I do only 4 repeats of the pattern which is a total of 92 sts, it gives me a finished diameter of 18″. I don’t know if that’s too snug. I can also adjust at will by doing more or less sts between each repeat.

This is what I’ve done so far. The bright yellow (that doesn’t look yellow here) is my waste yarn, the charcoal color is the main color I’m picking up the sts in.

This is as far as I got tonight because my brother came over to talk about his relationship and I got a bit sidetracked. I think tomorrow I will keep picking up until I have 92 sts, hold it around my head and if it’s too small I will try to figure out another multiple of the repeat with a different # of sts between.

I chose to work on the lace sock. It “fit” better with my mood, I wanted something fine and precise. After picking up the sts for turning the heel I did the short rows. I really like this heel technique! It’s kinda hard to explain how it looks, basically if you looked at the bottom of the foot, the flap technique goes straight across the back of the heel, even though the heel is curved. The technique I used here actually creates a curve that follows the natural shape of the heel. It looks really good.

I was going to stop the sock and work on something else, but then I got caught up in doing the instep decreases. I had 2 things going on at the same time: on the one hand I had my decrease round followed by 2 plain rounds, which I had to repeat until back to 16 sts on each needle. On the other hand I had my lace chart pattern being worked on the center 2 needles, and had to keep track of which row I was on because my odd rows were the pattern (and it’s a 48 row repeat!) and my even rows were just k the ks & yos, p the ps. I didn’t want to put it away and try to leave myself a note about “start on row 17 of lace chart but 1 row after the dec row” or something, so I just kept going until I was back at 16 sts and able to relax and just do the foot. Well. I made it to 16 sts/needle at 11:00pm once CSI: Miami was over. So I didn’t get to work on anything else, but it was a nice chunk of progress on the sock.

To Beth from the comments: Thank you for your kind words about my family’s story. I hesitated on sharing, but needed to be able to explain why I chose the Lakeshore Hospital…even though they killed my uncle last year.

To Jo from the comments: *blushing* Thanks! I knew we were born the same year, didn’t I mention it in the email I sent you? I didn’t know you read my blog…mainly ‘cus you never replied to my email LOL. At the time when I made that post about adding entries stuff was wrong, mainly my relationship, but has since been resolved. Which is why I was able to go back and start posting again.

In Montreal’s south-west region is the body of water known as Lac Sainte-Louis. This innocent-seeming water mass harbors a deadly secret: below its calm surface is a series of sharp, pointed rocks, which become a hazard each time the tide-level goes down. A nearby yacht club used to put out buoys to warn people of the danger, but were ordered by the city to remove them, being told that the lake was not private property. Thus, there were no warnings, and in early May 1977, a water-skier almost lost his legs on those rocks. This is not his story.

This is Betti’s story.

This story takes place a few weeks later, on May 21st 1977. Betti and Mitchell had been married for just under two years, and Betti was about 5 months pregnant. They decided to spend a nice day out on the water to celebrate Mitchell’s 26th birthday, and invited Jack, Betti’s father, along. The three of them went out near the Lord Redding Yacht club on Jack’s 17-foot motorboat.

They had a good time together, and later on in the day they returned to land to re-fuel the boat. They were unaware that the tide level had dropped in the time since they were out in open water. Betti was on the deck of the boat, a foolish thing to do in her condition. They went back out on the water, and that’s when disaster struck.

Jack’s motorboat hit some rocks, and Betti fell off the boat. She landed face-up on the jagged, pointy edge of a cluster of rocks. The rocks ripped 3 holes right through her back, the resulting cavity was so deep you could have placed a football into her body and it would have stayed. Frantically Jack tried to bring his boat around to rescue his daughter, but there was no time. The boat’s super-fast propeller got to Betti before he could, and sliced right through her midsection, tearing her straight through front-to-back, the entire length from her belly button to her side.

Mitchell immediately jumped into the icy-cold water, holding his wife in his arms and using his hands and body to keep her inner organs in place. Thankfully the water was so cold that the wound began to cauterize quickly. A passing boat called an ambulance, and Betti was rushed to the hospital.

What Betti felt the most during her experience in the hospital was her father’s desperate sadness. He was sure that in one day he’d managed to kill his daughter and grandchild, and the guilt nearly destroyed the gentle, kind man.

But Betti survived. The doctor’s didn’t know if she’d walk again, and she knew she’d prove them wrong. Then their attention turned to the baby. Even the doctor’s weren’t sure what the outcome of Betti’s pregnancy would be. She’d had so many tests and procedures during her hospital stay, taken Demerol and had X-rays and 5 blood transfusion…all things normally not recommended during a pregnancy. At that point Betti had been through so much that they didn’t want to risk further damage to her or the baby by doing further tests, so they really didn’t know if the baby was even still alive after all the trauma. Babies are normally carried in the center of the body, and Betti’s entire left side had been ripped open. What were the odds that the baby had avoided being sliced in half?

Betti didn’t let herself dwell on “what might be”, she had her hands busy working on what was. She was determined to walk normally again and to lift the spirits of her dejected father. She worked hard at her therapy, and the result was one of those magical moments normally reserved for Disney tear-jerkers. One day when Jack went to visit his daughter in the hospital the elevator he was in opened its doors to reveal Betti in her wheelchair, just across the hall. Before his stunned eyes she rose up and walked right into his arms. It was a miracle.

Eventually Betti left the hospital and moved temporarily back home with her parents, so they could give her the detailed care that she needed. She improved continuously without many setbacks until the day she was able to remove her bandages. She took one look at the curvy scar twisting around her body and recoiled in horror. That same day she confronted Mitchell in tears. She was horribly disfigured, she cried, and probably going to have some kind of mutant baby. She told him to leave her, to end their marriage, that he didn’t deserve this outcome when he could be with someone else and have a “normal” life.

Mitchell refused. He loved Betti, and knew that what he wanted above all else was a life with her, even with her scars, and even with their child’s uncertain future. He promised to stay by her side, and he did.

Today Betti and Mitchell have been married for almost 30 years. Mitchell is an optician with a thriving 30-year business, and Betti has been a teacher for over 25 years. With 2 daughters, 2 sons and a dog, the couldn’t have anything closer to a “normal” life.

And the baby Betti carried during her terrible accident?

That was me.

This is why when chosing somewhere to donate knitted items to, I chose the Lakeshore General Hospital. If they didn’t save my mom’s life, she wouldn’t be here. If saved her but not me, I wouldn’t be here. If they’d saved me but not her, I wouldn’t have a mother. And if they hadn’t saved her, I wouldn’t have my 2 younger brothers or my younger sister.

The Lakeshore General Hospital saved my family. That’s why I want to help them.

In Montreal’s south-west region is the body of water known as Lac Sainte-Louis. This innocent-seeming water mass harbors a deadly secret: below its calm surface is a series of sharp, pointed rocks, which become a hazard each time the tide-level goes down. A nearby yacht club used to put out buoys to warn people of the danger, but were ordered by the city to remove them, being told that the lake was not private property. Thus, there were no warnings, and in early May 1977, a water-skier almost lost his legs on those rocks. This is not his story.

This is Betti’s story.

This story takes place a few weeks later, on May 21st 1977. Betti and Mitchell had been married for just under two years, and Betti was about 5 months pregnant. They decided to spend a nice day out on the water to celebrate Mitchell’s 26th birthday, and invited Jack, Betti’s father, along. The three of them went out near the Lord Redding Yacht club on Jack’s 17-foot motorboat.

They had a good time together, and later on in the day they returned to land to re-fuel the boat. They were unaware that the tide level had dropped in the time since they were out in open water. Betti was on the deck of the boat, a foolish thing to do in her condition. They went back out on the water, and that’s when disaster struck.

Jack’s motorboat hit some rocks, and Betti fell off the boat. She landed face-up on the jagged, pointy edge of a cluster of rocks. The rocks ripped 3 holes right through her back, the resulting cavity was so deep you could have placed a football into her body and it would have stayed. Frantically Jack tried to bring his boat around to rescue his daughter, but there was no time. The boat’s super-fast propeller got to Betti before he could, and sliced right through her midsection, tearing her straight through front-to-back, the entire length from her belly button to her side.

Mitchell immediately jumped into the icy-cold water, holding his wife in his arms and using his hands and body to keep her inner organs in place. Thankfully the water was so cold that the wound began to cauterize quickly. A passing boat called an ambulance, and Betti was rushed to the hospital.

What Betti felt the most during her experience in the hospital was her father’s desperate sadness. He was sure that in one day he’d managed to kill his daughter and grandchild, and the guilt nearly destroyed the gentle, kind man.

But Betti survived. The doctor’s didn’t know if she’d walk again, and she knew she’d prove them wrong. Then their attention turned to the baby. Even the doctor’s weren’t sure what the outcome of Betti’s pregnancy would be. She’d had so many tests and procedures during her hospital stay, taken Demerol and had X-rays and 5 blood transfusion…all things normally not recommended during a pregnancy. At that point Betti had been through so much that they didn’t want to risk further damage to her or the baby by doing further tests, so they really didn’t know if the baby was even still alive after all the trauma. Babies are normally carried in the center of the body, and Betti’s entire left side had been ripped open. What were the odds that the baby had avoided being sliced in half?

Betti didn’t let herself dwell on “what might be”, she had her hands busy working on what was. She was determined to walk normally again and to lift the spirits of her dejected father. She worked hard at her therapy, and the result was one of those magical moments normally reserved for Disney tear-jerkers. One day when Jack went to visit his daughter in the hospital the elevator he was in opened its doors to reveal Betti in her wheelchair, just across the hall. Before his stunned eyes she rose up and walked right into his arms. It was a miracle.

Eventually Betti left the hospital and moved temporarily back home with her parents, so they could give her the detailed care that she needed. She improved continuously without many setbacks until the day she was able to remove her bandages. She took one look at the curvy scar twisting around her body and recoiled in horror. That same day she confronted Mitchell in tears. She was horribly disfigured, she cried, and probably going to have some kind of mutant baby. She told him to leave her, to end their marriage, that he didn’t deserve this outcome when he could be with someone else and have a “normal” life.

Mitchell refused. He loved Betti, and knew that what he wanted above all else was a life with her, even with her scars, and even with their child’s uncertain future. He promised to stay by her side, and he did.

Today Betti and Mitchell have been married for almost 30 years. Mitchell is an optician with a thriving 30-year business, and Betti has been a teacher for over 25 years. With 2 daughters, 2 sons and a dog, the couldn’t have anything closer to a “normal” life.

And the baby Betti carried during her terrible accident?

That was me.

This is why when chosing somewhere to donate knitted items to, I chose the Lakeshore General Hospital. If they didn’t save my mom’s life, she wouldn’t be here. If saved her but not me, I wouldn’t be here. If they’d saved me but not her, I wouldn’t have a mother. And if they hadn’t saved her, I wouldn’t have my 2 younger brothers or my younger sister.

The Lakeshore General Hospital saved my family. That’s why I want to help them.

In Montreal’s south-west region is the body of water known as Lac Sainte-Louis. This innocent-seeming water mass harbors a deadly secret: below its calm surface is a series of sharp, pointed rocks, which become a hazard each time the tide-level goes down. A nearby yacht club used to put out buoys to warn people of the danger, but were ordered by the city to remove them, being told that the lake was not private property. Thus, there were no warnings, and in early May 1977, a water-skier almost lost his legs on those rocks. This is not his story.

This is Betti’s story.

This story takes place a few weeks later, on May 21st 1977. Betti and Mitchell had been married for just under two years, and Betti was about 5 months pregnant. They decided to spend a nice day out on the water to celebrate Mitchell’s 26th birthday, and invited Jack, Betti’s father, along. The three of them went out near the Lord Redding Yacht club on Jack’s 17-foot motorboat.

They had a good time together, and later on in the day they returned to land to re-fuel the boat. They were unaware that the tide level had dropped in the time since they were out in open water. Betti was on the deck of the boat, a foolish thing to do in her condition. They went back out on the water, and that’s when disaster struck.

Jack’s motorboat hit some rocks, and Betti fell off the boat. She landed face-up on the jagged, pointy edge of a cluster of rocks. The rocks ripped 3 holes right through her back, the resulting cavity was so deep you could have placed a football into her body and it would have stayed. Frantically Jack tried to bring his boat around to rescue his daughter, but there was no time. The boat’s super-fast propeller got to Betti before he could, and sliced right through her midsection, tearing her straight through front-to-back, the entire length from her belly button to her side.

Mitchell immediately jumped into the icy-cold water, holding his wife in his arms and using his hands and body to keep her inner organs in place. Thankfully the water was so cold that the wound began to cauterize quickly. A passing boat called an ambulance, and Betti was rushed to the hospital.

What Betti felt the most during her experience in the hospital was her father’s desperate sadness. He was sure that in one day he’d managed to kill his daughter and grandchild, and the guilt nearly destroyed the gentle, kind man.

But Betti survived. The doctor’s didn’t know if she’d walk again, and she knew she’d prove them wrong. Then their attention turned to the baby. Even the doctor’s weren’t sure what the outcome of Betti’s pregnancy would be. She’d had so many tests and procedures during her hospital stay, taken Demerol and had X-rays and 5 blood transfusion…all things normally not recommended during a pregnancy. At that point Betti had been through so much that they didn’t want to risk further damage to her or the baby by doing further tests, so they really didn’t know if the baby was even still alive after all the trauma. Babies are normally carried in the center of the body, and Betti’s entire left side had been ripped open. What were the odds that the baby had avoided being sliced in half?

Betti didn’t let herself dwell on “what might be”, she had her hands busy working on what was. She was determined to walk normally again and to lift the spirits of her dejected father. She worked hard at her therapy, and the result was one of those magical moments normally reserved for Disney tear-jerkers. One day when Jack went to visit his daughter in the hospital the elevator he was in opened its doors to reveal Betti in her wheelchair, just across the hall. Before his stunned eyes she rose up and walked right into his arms. It was a miracle.

Eventually Betti left the hospital and moved temporarily back home with her parents, so they could give her the detailed care that she needed. She improved continuously without many setbacks until the day she was able to remove her bandages. She took one look at the curvy scar twisting around her body and recoiled in horror. That same day she confronted Mitchell in tears. She was horribly disfigured, she cried, and probably going to have some kind of mutant baby. She told him to leave her, to end their marriage, that he didn’t deserve this outcome when he could be with someone else and have a “normal” life.

Mitchell refused. He loved Betti, and knew that what he wanted above all else was a life with her, even with her scars, and even with their child’s uncertain future. He promised to stay by her side, and he did.

Today Betti and Mitchell have been married for almost 30 years. Mitchell is an optician with a thriving 30-year business, and Betti has been a teacher for over 25 years. With 2 daughters, 2 sons and a dog, the couldn’t have anything closer to a “normal” life.

And the baby Betti carried during her terrible accident?

That was me.

This is why when chosing somewhere to donate knitted items to, I chose the Lakeshore General Hospital. If they didn’t save my mom’s life, she wouldn’t be here. If saved her but not me, I wouldn’t be here. If they’d saved me but not her, I wouldn’t have a mother. And if they hadn’t saved her, I wouldn’t have my 2 younger brothers or my younger sister.

The Lakeshore General Hospital saved my family. That’s why I want to help them.

In Montreal’s south-west region is the body of water known as Lac Sainte-Louis. This innocent-seeming water mass harbors a deadly secret: below its calm surface is a series of sharp, pointed rocks, which become a hazard each time the tide-level goes down. A nearby yacht club used to put out buoys to warn people of the danger, but were ordered by the city to remove them, being told that the lake was not private property. Thus, there were no warnings, and in early May 1977, a water-skier almost lost his legs on those rocks. This is not his story.

This is Betti’s story.

This story takes place a few weeks later, on May 21st 1977. Betti and Mitchell had been married for just under two years, and Betti was about 5 months pregnant. They decided to spend a nice day out on the water to celebrate Mitchell’s 26th birthday, and invited Jack, Betti’s father, along. The three of them went out near the Lord Redding Yacht club on Jack’s 17-foot motorboat.

They had a good time together, and later on in the day they returned to land to re-fuel the boat. They were unaware that the tide level had dropped in the time since they were out in open water. Betti was on the deck of the boat, a foolish thing to do in her condition. They went back out on the water, and that’s when disaster struck.

Jack’s motorboat hit some rocks, and Betti fell off the boat. She landed face-up on the jagged, pointy edge of a cluster of rocks. The rocks ripped 3 holes right through her back, the resulting cavity was so deep you could have placed a football into her body and it would have stayed. Frantically Jack tried to bring his boat around to rescue his daughter, but there was no time. The boat’s super-fast propeller got to Betti before he could, and sliced right through her midsection, tearing her straight through front-to-back, the entire length from her belly button to her side.

Mitchell immediately jumped into the icy-cold water, holding his wife in his arms and using his hands and body to keep her inner organs in place. Thankfully the water was so cold that the wound began to cauterize quickly. A passing boat called an ambulance, and Betti was rushed to the hospital.

What Betti felt the most during her experience in the hospital was her father’s desperate sadness. He was sure that in one day he’d managed to kill his daughter and grandchild, and the guilt nearly destroyed the gentle, kind man.

But Betti survived. The doctor’s didn’t know if she’d walk again, and she knew she’d prove them wrong. Then their attention turned to the baby. Even the doctor’s weren’t sure what the outcome of Betti’s pregnancy would be. She’d had so many tests and procedures during her hospital stay, taken Demerol and had X-rays and 5 blood transfusion…all things normally not recommended during a pregnancy. At that point Betti had been through so much that they didn’t want to risk further damage to her or the baby by doing further tests, so they really didn’t know if the baby was even still alive after all the trauma. Babies are normally carried in the center of the body, and Betti’s entire left side had been ripped open. What were the odds that the baby had avoided being sliced in half?

Betti didn’t let herself dwell on “what might be”, she had her hands busy working on what was. She was determined to walk normally again and to lift the spirits of her dejected father. She worked hard at her therapy, and the result was one of those magical moments normally reserved for Disney tear-jerkers. One day when Jack went to visit his daughter in the hospital the elevator he was in opened its doors to reveal Betti in her wheelchair, just across the hall. Before his stunned eyes she rose up and walked right into his arms. It was a miracle.

Eventually Betti left the hospital and moved temporarily back home with her parents, so they could give her the detailed care that she needed. She improved continuously without many setbacks until the day she was able to remove her bandages. She took one look at the curvy scar twisting around her body and recoiled in horror. That same day she confronted Mitchell in tears. She was horribly disfigured, she cried, and probably going to have some kind of mutant baby. She told him to leave her, to end their marriage, that he didn’t deserve this outcome when he could be with someone else and have a “normal” life.

Mitchell refused. He loved Betti, and knew that what he wanted above all else was a life with her, even with her scars, and even with their child’s uncertain future. He promised to stay by her side, and he did.

Today Betti and Mitchell have been married for almost 30 years. Mitchell is an optician with a thriving 30-year business, and Betti has been a teacher for over 25 years. With 2 daughters, 2 sons and a dog, the couldn’t have anything closer to a “normal” life.

And the baby Betti carried during her terrible accident?

That was me.

This is why when chosing somewhere to donate knitted items to, I chose the Lakeshore General Hospital. If they didn’t save my mom’s life, she wouldn’t be here. If saved her but not me, I wouldn’t be here. If they’d saved me but not her, I wouldn’t have a mother. And if they hadn’t saved her, I wouldn’t have my 2 younger brothers or my younger sister.

The Lakeshore General Hospital saved my family. That’s why I want to help them.

This morning it took me 1 hour to get to my LYS for my class, a trip that normally takes 15 minutes. There is so much blowing snow out there that traffic is unbelievable.

I learned how to do the cast off with the sewing needle! It took me a few tries with waste yarn because I kept forgetting to catch the other side of one of the sts, but once I tried it with the actually knitting yarn I got it right away.

They had the buttons I was missing too, the paw print ones that I thought were on back order. So I bought some of those for the commissioned jacket. I also bought a pattern for a big felted bag from Fiber Trends and the charcoal colored Lopi to make it. I’m going to use it to replace my knitting bag once it’s done because my bag is getting a bit small, plus has no pockets. I’m going to make the bag in all charcoal but instead of leaving the side pockets and top open I’m going to buy bright neon colored zippers like hot pink or lime and insert those. I’m also going to take the two end pockets that are about as high as a ruler but only about 4″ wide, and follow the pattern but bind off halfway through and start over. I’ll get much more use out of 4 4″ square pockets than 2 long pockets. I don’t use straight needles, and don’t really have anything that I can put in those. The smaller pockets will be much more practical, and I’ll be able to incorporate more colors in zippers.

Now I’m back from the LYS and just spent almost 2 hours updating my blog and going through each day since Friday the 11th, so I’m going to take a well-deserved lunch break, then settle down in front of a nice fire with my knitting. My goal for today is to either finish the jacket and start my fair isle headband, or leave the jacket for tomorrow since it was only commissioned Friday and I’m well ahead of schedule, and instead start one of the sweaters I’ll be donating to the Lakeshore Hospital. I think I’ll do that one.

I decided to do some knitting for charity this year besides all the gifts and stuff. I chose the Lakeshore Hospital because even though they screwed up on my Uncle Mel and he’s no longer with us, and they screwed up Yannick’s back twice and he finally had to go see a real surgery professional, the hospital did save my family. I don’t know how to make the long story short so I’ll make a separate post in a minute to explain why I want to help them. Anyways, when I contacted the hospital to find out where they might need knits more, they said they were really in need of items for their gift shop. They provided me with the yarn and the patterns, and told me they have all the buttons I’d ever need too. So I’d really like to get at least one item for them underway.

To Shell from the comments:
When Aaron was in Australia he was staying in Adelaide, and decided he needed a job for while he was there. Well, next thing you know he got a job at a restaurant…which just happened to be on TV as a reality show! It was called My Restaurant Rules and we were told that at least once in every episode he was seen ‘cus he was the only “Canadian Guy” there. I believe Adelaide’s restaurant came in third of the 5. I know the show just started its next season. It’s sad ‘cus we were never able to watch the episodes here so we will never be able to see his experience, but it’s cool just the same.

He also went to Melbourne from time to time during the year ‘cus we apparently have family there so he’d go stay with them for a long weekend or something.

And thank you so much for your sweet comment on my knitting and my blog. It’s hard to believe anyone reads it, much less enjoys reading it, so that really touched me. Thank you!

(actually being posted on Feb 21 ‘cus I was too busy/lazy to post on time)

While everyone else either went skiing or to play in the snow, I spent most of the day by the fire knitting. I had also brought with my pattern and the yarns to make the next commissioned item for the pet accessories store, and was able to start working on it. They wanted this: but with a pink trim and made to measure.

I had a lot of fun knitting it because Nicholas (the 2nd oldest) sat with me almost the entire time, clicking my row counter for me and telling me how good of a knitter I was. *grin* Gotta love kids!

I was able to finish the entire back and since I had pins in my “toolkit” I found a large towel and wet the piece, blocking it out to dry. Since I’d forgotten the sock pattern I had no knitting to keep me occupied while waiting for the jacket to dry, and I don’t ski. So what could I do to keep myself busy until dinner time? Why relax in the spa of course!

Yannick’s parents have an outdoor hot tub/jacuzzi thing (what is the difference anyways?) that seats like 8 people. So for about two hours I relaxed in there, first with B and all 4 boys, then the younger two went to take baths, then Yannick joined us. It was fun with the kids in there ‘cus we kept telling them we didn’t believe they had the guts to go out and jump in the snow, roll around and come back in the spa. And they’d do it to prove they could. Then they’d freak out ‘cus your body gets all tingly and stings from the contrast of cold to hot. I wouldn’t do it, but I did keep grabbing a handful of snow and squeezing it really tight in my hands, then putting my hands under water to get the same effect. Eventually the other 2 boys left and it was just me, B and Yannick, so we turned off the jets and bubbles and just RELAXED. There was snow all around us, it was -27 outside, steam rising up everywhere and we were soooooooo warm. And briefly at the end for like 5 minutes B went in to shower so it was just me & Yannick and it was so nice just to veg there together.

After supper we drove home and I found a message on my answering machine from Nicole (my knitting teacher) saying to prepare a 1×1 rib swatch so tomorrow we could learn how to cast off with a needle (kitchener or grafting cast off). Plus I’d wanted to finish the back of the jacket at least by the end of the night. So I got to work. While watching MythBusters (I also like Discovery Channel) I picked up all the way around the jacket with hot pink fun fur, and somewhere during one of the rounds of knitting Yannick went up to bed. I watched more of the Food Network while knitting away, finishing and binding off the fun fur trim. I did my swatch with some leftover Sirdar Snuggly I had from the crocheted baby onesie/booties set, and was ready for bed by midnight. I was sad to go up to bed ‘cus the Iron Chef America had just gotten underway, but my eyes were closing and I knew I couldn’t sleep in tomorrow because I had my class.

At least I finished the back of the jacket! Now I just need to pick up the sts for the bellyband, knit it to length in st st and sew on the buttons. You can’t tell from this picture, but the pink really is a “hot pink” and the contrast between it and the black is really striking.