Sometimes no help at all is the very best kind

I believe that whooshing sound was Friday and Saturday racing past. A day at the shop was followed by an enjoyable evening at the barn -- dinner, yakking and laughing, not necessarily in that order. It is a fun bunch of people. The trainer liked the portraits of the show gang, so that's good. And, the girls all seemed to like their hats. Whew!

Come Saturday, there was the usually no-brainer decision: Knit or be a Responsible Grownup. After teetering on the brink of yarndom, the Presbyterian in me prevailed and I dragged the holiday tubs out of the basement. (David was working, so he was excused from the heavy lifting) Several hours later, voila -- Christmas!

We decided a couple weeks ago against getting a big tree, what with the puppy and all that energy. Nevertheless, I hung a few small ornaments on our Norfolk island pine, but it took only a moment for that folly to become clear. Here is Gunnar, the ornament gobbler:


And this is Riley, the dismayed and innocent witness:



Three ornaments and half of a beaded garland. Gone. In about a minute. So far, BabyDog is just fine. The two surviving ornaments went back in the box and my 'helpers' went to jail while I set out the Santas, which as of yet are out of reach.

So, where's the knitting? I am back in the hat business for a couple of days. Yes, more Rowan Plaid. Meredith said she wants to make one, so we dashed to the shop that is near our house this afternoon and picked out some Malabrigo Chunky. It will be a totally different look, but it will be fun. I'm tickled that she wants to knit again. If she takes after me in any way, it's that she is way too busy, too. And she's only 15!

While we were there, two skeins of Louisa Harding jumped off the shelf and followed me all over the store. It was embarrassing, so I picked them up and promised to bring them home. "You can be mittens," I whispered, just to stop the whining.

Oh. Maybe that was me.

I was a brave soldier, however, and resisted the mermaid song of the bird's nest and eggs by Marie Mayhew. I suspect Santa might bring it. One of his elves perked right up when she saw me looking at the kit.