The Knitting Guru Mantle is getting heavier. Not so heavy that I can't handle it. In addition to the time I spent with Mrs S last night, another friend, Mrs U called with a knitting conundrum (which I straightened out beautifully).
What is it with the married knitting disciples? Who would have thought that something I picked up from my mother in the 80's would be a hot commodity in the swinging 2000's?
I started reading Manalive, a novel by GK Chesterton (this copy from the unflappable Mr G-Soon-to-Be-Doctor-of-Philosophy-to-you!). I had a lovely evening with myself. Lit the candles, let the hair down and snuggled in the living room. If you haven't seen our living room, it was made to be read in. Three people can comfortable curl up in various corners with plenty-o-light. GKC is such a relief after the snarly philosophy of Mr K. Smith. Colors pop from the page, along with purple discriptions of rapturous sunsets, the subversion of the respectable and the-over-the-top romance (in a strict Lewisian sense of course... no, rather, there were 12 flavors of lewisian "romance"-- none of them having anything to do with swollen discriptions of modern love).
And to top off a perfect evening, Currer called.
I listened to the rain last night. I don't think there is a lovelier sound.