Bloglet the FIrst...
So this day marks the close of my first three weeks on the new job. It’s going well. I think I actually like it. I’ve got a cozy little corner for myself, with a window. I sit in an open space with four other GIS geeks. That’s the way I like it. I’ve never been a my-own-office kind of girl; I like people. I’ve got coffee buddies and I’ve located a Firefly fan in the building. I don’t nearly know everybody’s names, but I’m learning. And on Thursdays, the office buys us all bagels. Nice ones. I’m working in my field and I’m getting paid for it. Like with actual money.
Everyone wants to know how the kiddo is adapting. Luke is thrilled that I’m not dragging him out of school when all the friends get to stay and play in the afternoon. Clearly this is big hardship on him. In order to work out the schedule so he’s not in care for a full nine hours, we’ve rigged it so that I go in early. When that alarm clock goes off in the morning, it’s always a little shocking. Not a soul in this house qualifies as a morning person, least of all me, but we’re getting along with it. The morning conversation around here has been reduced to primitive grunts in which only a handful of actual human words can be gleaned. These mostly have to do with caffeine and the acquisition thereof.
Bloglet the Second...
I’m knitting my way towards a sweater, which means that I’ve got a project on the needles that I want to finish up so I can start on the sweater. My invisibility shawl happens to be residing on the same needles called for by said sweater pattern. Sure, I could buy another pair, but these are my addi laces. You understand.
So I’m shawling it. The progress had actually picked up and I felt that I was making good headway. Even reached the halfway point. And then progress stopped. Oh, I’m still knitting on it. I’m knitting on it everyday and now and again I eagerly grab my tape measure and spread it out for a reality check, and it measures exactly the same every damn time. Apparently invisible progress is an inherent trait of my invisibility shawl. I’ll have to keep that in mind when I wear it, presuming the magic holds. An accessory for stalling and stretching out time. Something you wear to the ballet and not, say, the dentist, then.
I’m also stitching away on a truly awesome pair of gloves. You’ll be seeing them shortly. Right about the time the weather turns seasonably warm.
Bloglet the Third...
I know I shouldn’t pick spring flowers. I know it. I should let them grow and bloom so everyone can enjoy them, or at least so I can enjoy them tomorrow. I shouldn’t be greedy and short-sighted. I know. I just can’t help myself. There’s a vacant lot next to my office building that is tangled with mustard flowers towering head-high. The grass is that vivid baby green and tucked around and between it are a handful of bright, colorful wildflowers that I’ve grown up with my whole life and can’t name. And every time I walk by, I snatch one away from its mother plant and tuck its little carcass in my hair. Brutal, I know. I just want them. I want that little bit of spring to come inside with me.
Winter is a pretty mild thing here for the bulk of California, or so I’m told. I don’t venture over the state line all that often, I’ll grant you, but that’s the way I heard it. Still, even a change from plain green, to green and yellow and pink and purple and little white tree blossoms that shower down on you like wishes in the breeze... Even that change is notable. I think I’ll take it, even if it does mean the end of sweater weather and a Monday that’s going to feel like it’s an hour earlier that my already painful wake-up call.