Can we imagine, for a minute that it is April 1st today? Please. Just go with it, okay.
Today’s entry, April 1st.
So many guesses for the knitting! One of you got it right! Jo, formerly of Boston, currently of my town (want to go to lunch this weekend, Jo?) said, and I quote:
I’m not sure, but if it’s for Andy then you’re a very lucky woman.
The innocent in me thinks she means gloves. But? I’m sure she is talking about a warmer of a certain sort. CLICK HERE FOR LINK .
This is the time when I would yell out…APRIL FOOL!!
I am not knitting a willie warmer! I do not have that *ahem* item of anatomy but I have never gotten the impression that cold is problem for *it*. But I may be wrong and correct me if you know better.
What am I really knitting? The Mars scarf, of course.
This is for Stacey:
But she has to share it with the others who guessed correctly!
So, the Mars scarf. Can we talk? That scarf is…erm….the balls. (Sorry). The pictures do not do it justice. I saw it at the Twist Collective trunk show at Yarns in the Farms (with the wonderific Carol!), falling in love with it. It has a shawl collar which lies really nicely around the back of the neck and will be super warm with the cold New England Winds! Love. It!!
You know what else I love?
~A long weekend. Monday is Patriot’s Day, a Massachusetts holiday! 3 blissful days off from work!
The big yellow one is the sun, er, the daffodils
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee;
A poet could not be but gay,
In such a jocund company!
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.