I find trees to be ridiculously distracting. With the resulting consequence that I sometimes run into things…


I know, I know, everyone is showing tree pictures right now.

I love having a tree in the house. And tree smell. I am also glad that I don’t have a cat to knock it over.

Now that this is over:


My weekend…

Yes, indeed. People’s leftover food in the dressing rooms, costumes out of place, paper bags up against light fixtures, PLASTIC BAGS MELTED TO CURLING IRONS…

Okay, if you promise not to tell them, I don’t really mind so much. I mean, I would rather not clean up someone’s old food, but it’s all part of the process. I expect it, as I am sure they expect my little speeches in which I rave endlessly about my disgust, their messiness, my refusal to clean up their trash (which I’ll do regardless), and the fact that we are not their mothers. (Not that their mothers should have to clean up after them either…) And then I tell them how wonderful they are, and that the show is beautiful, and to break their legs, and that I love them.

It’s all true. I miss this job so much.

On another note, Emily is keeping a close watch on this sock.


Doesn’t it look sneaky?? For some reason, socks-in-progress have an extremely animate attitude about them. An awareness that most non-living objects lack entirely. It looks like it’s about to scuttle away and lodge itself unforgivingly in a dusty corner-lair-place so it can lie in wait for a darning needle to hop by. Then, I think it’s going to lasso the needle with its working end and devour it with an unreasonable degree of satisfaction.

But that’s just me.


Finished back (folded), and the beginnings of sleeves.

Maybe I should be finishing my gift knitting instead of making myself a sweater.  On the other hand, it is 2:30 AM and I should be sleeping.  I guess it’s all the same in the end.

Leave a Reply