Apparently, my tender-hearted approach of swerving wildly while driving to avoid death wish small mammals, has touched a sensitive chord with my family. I've already gotten severe lectures from my husband and sister, Liz, about the dangers of this practice. Luckily, my mom hasn't read my blog and no one has ratted me out, because she probably would give me a tongue-lashing about unsafe driving practices. I know, logically, it probably is safer to mow down the nasty possum or cute fat skunk than swerve wildly, but emotionally, I'm thinking Bambi and his little friends in the Enchanted Forest. On one of my first dates with my husband, twenty-plus years ago, (child-bride, remember?) a squirrel ran in front of his car and I shrieked out, "Run, baby, run!" No doubt my sensitive nature-loving personality (and still-perky at that time body parts) are why he kept asking me out. Anyway, according to my sister, unless it's a moose crossing the road, I shouldn't swerve wildly. I've yet to see any moose out here in the wilds of Kansas City, but you never know. Hey, not to be all Bizarre Foods, but I have eaten moose before. It was a moose stew and quite tasty. (Look, once again, I digress.)
I'm rapidly finishing up this lace scarf/small stole knit out of Malabrigo sock yarn. It looks remarkably unimpressive right now in a big lump, but I'm hoping to finish it up tonight and block it tomorrow. Blocking is always like the Extreme Makeover move for lace. I did just notice that I made an error in the pattern, naturally during the first few inches of knitting and I'm just noticing it now. It looks like I must have lost track of where I was in the chart and repeated about six or so rows. Argh. As this is a gift and I'm in a bit of a time crunch, the error stands as is. Hopefully the recipient will never notice, or better yet, just figure it's a design aspect.