Gobble, gobble.

I have no Thanksgiving pictures worth sharing, except this silly plate of appetizers. We cooked and cooked, and timed and retimed, and when the turkey had to go back in the oven for another hour because I miscalculated something, J and I accepted defeat. I went downstairs for a little cry, she washed some dishes, and nothing was the same after that. Dinner, when it finally happened, was delicious. But we were done. Done in. Over it. Ready to move on.

~:~

Knitting? Something has gone wrong there, too. I have been too tired to do anything satisfying or right. My Jaywalker sock had to be frogged (it would have fit someone, just not me). My scarf in Brooks Farm yarn that looks like pansies went the way of the sock (it just didn’t thrill me), and I haven’t found the right stitch or pattern yet. I started another Jaywalker in Koigu KPPPM, on larger needles, to see if that will make a difference. I decided to make washcloths for all the women at work, and I have some lovely little soaps to go with them, so I started one of those. That’s working out — mindless knitting is what I need right now, since I think I lost my mind this week.

So today, lovely quiet day that it promises to be, I will rest and refill the well. I’ll knit mindlessly, watch movies, do some laundry, and that’s that. I have a busy month ahead of me, and I need a day like this.

Oh, and I can’t forget to say this: I am a grateful woman. I have a job that I love, a sweet little home shared with a sweet fur person, dear family and old friends, precious-beyond-measure new friends, knitting that saves me, and the prospect of being able to say this again next year. The Thanksgiving holiday is a bittersweet one for me, but I know that the bits and bouts of sadness that I feel mean that I’ve lived to tell the tale, and that’s got to be a good thing.