Super Soaker

Six months into our Potty-sey, we've reached a turning point: Benjamin can now be diaper-free for small chunks of the day. Let me rephrase: he can be diaper-free as long as he's had his morning poo and pee; he's not suffering from any sort of intestinal distress (such as the kind that Augmentin inflicts on babies - moms, you know what I'm talking about); and I make myself available to him in the event that he does need to go and wants to cue me. I don't have be Helicopter Mom and hover over him, but I do have to be at least somewhat aware of what he's doing. If I'm not, then the whole thing goes to sh*t. Literally.

During those diaper-free times, I put training pants on Benjamin. Training pants have several benefits over diapers when it comes to EC. For one thing, they're much easier to whip off and on when he has to go. Also, I can see immediately if Benjamin does have a miss, which helps me to get a better understanding of his patterns and signals. Finally, the unpleasant sensation Benjamin gets from wearing wet pants gives him an incentive to cue me when he needs to go. Unfortunately, finding training pants that fit is next to impossible. The smallest size available in stores is 2T, which is way to big for the Boo. In fact, he's actually crawled right out of his underpants because they're too saggy. The solution? Custom-knit wool soakers!

A fellow mom in the Diaper Free Baby Yahoo Group directed me to a free pattern for wool soakers. Pattern in hand, I consulted my rather sizeable stash, and found two wool options: Noro Silk Garden left over from my Lady E project and Cascade Wool 220 left over from a bag I knit a few years back. I settled on using the Cascade Wool 220. As beautiful as that gorgeous Noro colorway would look on Benjamin's little bottom, I just couldn't stomach the idea of using a $14/skein yarn for something that would probably be crapped on.

In my pre-Boo life, I would've been able to knock out about three of these soakers by now, but at this point, all I have to show for my efforts is this:

That's eventually going to be the butt part of the soaker. Cute, huh? I'm still trying to decide if I'm going to felt it or not. I think that felting it would probably make for a better soaker, but it would also shrink it. So I guess it depends on whether or not I finish this project anytime in the next year.

One very notable thing about this project is the fact that I knitted a gauge swatch for it. SAY WHAT? Gauge swatches are anathema to most knitters, especially impatient knitters with such as myself. I'd rather just rush into the project sans swatch and risk having to redo the whole thing if it doesn't fit. Perhaps this is why I enjoy knitting toys so much - one size fits all! My gauge swatch was only ten stitches wide and one inch long, but it was a swatch nonetheless - my first swatch, I'm ashamed to say. I guess that motherhood has taught me a bit about patience.

Boowarmers - The New "It" Thing

That's what I'm telling Benjamin to say to anyone who looks at him funny on our next playdate. And I'm hoping that he'll be able to do so with a more enthused facial expression than the ones he has here:

Hmmm... perhaps Boowarmers are an acquired taste.

In case you'd like your little one to acquire a taste for Boowarmers, I've included the pattern I created for the ones you see on Benjamin. NOTE: I *strongly* recommend knitting a stockinette test swatch first. Feel free to massage the pattern however you like to achieve desired size and style.

BENJAMIN'S B*TCHIN' BOOWARMERS

Finished size: Boo-sized. Yarn: Vanna's Choice Lion Brand Yarn (100% Acrylic; 156m/100g): 1 ball each of #134 Terracotta and #173 Dusty Green. Needles: Size 5 dpns (or size needed to achieve gauge - again, KNIT A TEST SWATCH)

With MC (Terracotta), CO 40 sts. Divide equally-ish onto 3 sz 5 dpns and carefully join rnd.

Rows 1 to 5 - k2p2 to end of rnd. Rows 6 to 12 - k Rows 13 and 14 - Join CC (Dusty Green) and k. Rows 15 to 16 - k with MC. Rows 17 to 18 - k with CC. Rows 19 to 20 -k with MC. Rows 21 to 24 - k with CC. Rows 25 to 26 - k with MC. Rows 27 to 34 - k with CC. At end of Row 34, leave a tail long enough to weave in, and cut yarn. Rows 35 to 37 - k with MC. Row 38 - k2tog, k18, k2tog, k18 - 38 sts. Rows 39 to 40 - k. Row 41 - k2tog, k17, k2tog, k17 - 36 sts. Rows 42 and 43 - k. Row 44 - k2tog, k16, k2tog, k16 - 34 sts. Rows 45 to 47 - k. Row 48 - k2tog, k15, k2tog, k15 - 32 sts. Rows 49 to 51 - k. Row 52 - k2tog, k14, k2tog, k14 - 30 sts. Rows 53 to 58 - k. Row 59 - k2tog, k13, k2tog, k13 - 28 sts. Rows 60 to 65 - k. Row 66 - k2tog, k12, k2tog, k12 - 26 sts. Rows 67 to 72 - k. Row 73 - k2tog, k11, k2tog, k11 - 24 sts. Rows 74 to 78 - k. Rows 79 to 83 - K2P2 to end of rnd.

BO in patt and weave in ends.

Don't Call Them "Legwarmers"

A mere week after pledging to knit a pair of manly legwarmers for my son, I have finished... one legwarmer. Are you wondering why I'm already bragging about a half-finished project? Well, you should know that there are weeks when I don't find time to perform the most perfunctory of tasks. I mean, I can't remember the last time the caterpillars on my face have seen a pair of tweezers. So half-finished or not, I think I deserve a medal.

Another thing you should know is that I've decided not to call this article of clothing "legwarmers." A boy wearing legwarmers might get beaten up on the playground. A boy wearing BOOWARMERS, on the other hand, is safe from ridicule.

"He's a MANIAC! MAAAAAAY-NEE-ACK!"

Yes, you are seeing correctly. Those are my baby boy's legs and feet encased in legwarmers. Ah, legwarmers... provenance of Jane Fonda and Jennifer Beals circa 1983. Before you rush to judgement, let me tell you that there is a very good reason for why my baby boy is sporting such girly gear. As I mentioned in a recent post, Benjamin and I just started practicing infant potty training. Sometimes, there are only moments between the time he cues me and the time the show hits the road, so wasting crucial seconds trying to wrestle pants off of Benjamin's burgeoning bottom is not an option. So now you know. And knowing is half the battle. (Are we feeling the 80's love, people?)

The other half of the battle is convincing my husband that the legwarmers do serve a real purpose. Judging from the look on his face, he'd rather see his son freeze than see him run around in dance gear. My feeble suggestion that he could think of Benjamin as being a hip, metrosexual baby didn't really fly, either.

Further compounding the problem is the fact that I've only been able to find legwarmers for baby girls. I can't for the life of me imagine why! So since I believe that Benjamin should have a variety of legwarmer options on his road to Pottydom, I've taken it upon myself to knit him some more manly-looking ones. As they say, variety is the spice of life.

Going along with the 80's theme of this post, I'd like to point out that that is, indeed, Vanna White on the wrapper. Apparently, she has her own line of yarn. Who knew?

Benjamin's First Trip to the Playground

Last weekend we took Benjamin for his first visit to the neighborhood playground. We figured that since he could now sit up, there was no reason he couldn't do so on a slide or a jungle gym. We did get odd looks from some of the other parents there. I suppose it was because their kids were old enough to get on and off of the park equipment themselves, whereas we had to strategically position Benjamin's floppy little baby body in a manner that would allow him to stay propped upright. Even so, he seemed to have a good time.

We were especially excited to see if he'd like the swings. Vince plopped him into a rubber seat and gave him a gentle push. Benjamin began to sway to and fro, a gentle breeze ruffling his mohawk. Suddenly, he ducked his head down towards his knees. Was he getting airsick? Had we overestimated his ability to sit upright? Was he suffering from swing-induced narcolepsy? Was he scared and crying? Alarmed, I dropped to my knees to get a better view of him.

Benjamin's face was visible through the leg holes of the baby swing, and his eyes were busily watching the shadows shift as he moved through the air. In fact, he was so riveted that he didn't even notice I was crouched there anxiously gazing up at him. I breathed a sigh of relief and fondly watched my balled-up baby continue to swing back and forth like a chubby pendulum. Or a Popple. Or a turtle. Which reminds me... I need to get back to my knitting!

Look Ma, No Hands!

I want to once again extol the virtues of the humble baby wrap, previously lauded on my list of Top 5 Postpartum Lifesavers. With Benjamin tucked snugly in my wrap, I'm able to perform a variety of exciting tasks such as doing laundry, checking emails, mopping the floor, browsing the stacks at my local library, and using the ladies' room. I recently started nursing Benjamin while he's in the wrap, thus freeing up another eight hours of each day! Feeding myself, however, has proven to be a trickier endeavor. A few days ago, after Benjamin spent an afternoon hanging out in my wrap, I noticed a disgusting curd-like growth in the folds beneath his chubby chin. Upon closer inspection, I discovered the curds weren't curds at all; rather, they were the remnants of that day's lunch of chicken fried rice.

Something else the wrap allows me to do is to knit, which I had not done since giving birth. After a nearly 11-week-long hiatus, I finally picked up the needles this week and resumed working on my entrelac blanket. Man, it felt goooooood. It felt like I was being reunited with a long-lost friend. A long-lost friend whose other friends had moved on to better things and left her in the dust. You see, shortly before Benjamin was born, I'd taught my mother how to knit entrelac. My mom, whose knitting skills may be trumped by only God Himself, promptly knit up a quick test piece.

That's her little "test piece" above, on the right. She has since begun working on a second entrelac blanket. That's it on the left, looking like it's going to annex my blanket. Does this woman have fast fingers or what? I'm convinced that she derives superpowers from her shiny purple stirrup pants, though. They're like her magic cape. Or her equivalent to Superman's red tights. If I can find a pair of my own, then maybe I'll have the flying fingers, too!

Pregnancy Top Fives

Now that I'm nearing the end of my pregnancy, I thought I'd take a moment to recap some of its highs and lows. You may remember my promising in the very first post that this blog would contain no bitching or complaining about anything other than knitting or Oliver. I may have to bend the rules a little here, because - as every pregnant woman (and pregnant woman's husband) knows - one of the benefits of being pregnant is having carte blanche to whine without restraint about your pregnancy. So hang on to your britches, 'cause here we go...

Top Five Food Cravings

# 5. Edamame with kosher salt (first trimester)

# 4. Salad (second and third trimesters)
# 3. Clementines, eaten two or three at a time (beginning of third trimester)
# 2. Triscuits with sharp cheddar cheese (third trimester)
# 1. Honey Bunches of Oats Cereal with Vanilla Soy Milk (the whole damn time)

Top Five Size-Related Comments That I Didn't Mind Hearing

# 5. "You're really getting big!" (said while standing in front of me looking at my belly)
# 4. "You look like you're due any day now!"
# 3. "You look like you have a basketball in there!"

# 2. "It's so pointy!"
# 1. "You're beautiful." (said by my husband. We'll forget his previous camel comment. For now.)

Top Five Size-Related Comments That Filled Me with Homicidal Rage

# 5. "You're really getting big!" (said while walking behind me looking at God-knows-what)

# 4. "Your face looks fuller!"

# 3. "Wow, you've gotten bigger... all over!"

# 2. "You're HUGE!" (especially when followed by...)

# 1. "How much weight have you gained so far?"

Top Five Fashion Lifesavers

# 5. Bella Bands
# 4. Cheap clothes from Target and Forever 21, bought in ever-increasing sizes
# 3. Anything black and stretchy (and therefore slimming. Right? Right??)
# 2. Shoes with no buckles, laces, or zippers (because the idea of reaching your feet becomes a joke)
# 1. Cynthia and Tara (from whom I inherited a bounty of maternity clothing. Thanks, ladies!)

Top Five Websites

# 5. Epinions.com

# 4. FitPregnancy.com

# 3. ConsumerReports.org

# 2. Peachhead Group for Families in Los Angeles

# 1. Babycenter.com

Top Five Favorite Things About Pregnancy
# 5. Discussing baby names with my husband.
# 4. Watching my husband channel his inner Martha Stewart while decorating the nursery
# 3. Watching my husband try to talk to the baby
# 2. Seeing my belly move around
# 1. Feeling the baby kick

Top Five Least Pleasant Things About Pregnancy
# 5. The first trimester.

# 4. Being gripped with fear every time I sneezed and coughed in the last trimester.

I'm just going to stop there. You don't want to hear the rest. Trust me.

Nesting mode has kicked in 1000% percent. Despite my increasingly more uncomfortable hugeness, I spent a good chunk of this weekend cleaning, cooking, baking, knitting, and running errands. Today alone I hit Target, Ralphs, and Costco, did laundry, organized three closets, mopped the kitchen floor, and baked one red velvet cake. From scratch. Knitting was on hold for the day because even my damn fingers have begun retaining water.

Speaking of knitting, I'm in a race against the clock to complete two baby projects before the big day - a Sheldon (yes, another one) and an entrelac blanket. There they are, above, hanging out at the Friday Knitting Group. Unfortunately, Lisa forgot her knitting that day. Not sure why she looked so darn happy about it, though. To make up for her lack of knitting, Jocelyn taught knitting newbie Patricia the ropes. Or the yarn, as it were. Har dee har har!

Baby Overload

The past few days have been consumed with all things baby - learning about the baby, prepping for the baby, thinking about the baby. On Saturday at the Pump Station's Baby Care Class we learned that babies are able to not only projectile vomit, but also projectile poop. Will wonders never cease? On a slightly less revolting note, we also learned the proper way to swaddle a baby. As you can see, Vince was a little too eager to put his new swaddling skills to use.

Sunday was my baby shower, organized by my dear friends Yvonne and Jen. The shower was held at our humble abode with a few close women friends and family. Everything was just wonderful - the flowers, the favors, the company, and the paninis. We received some really amazing and thoughtful gifts, including a few lovingly hand-crafted items. Lisa knit an adorable little blue elephant, and Leslie "baked" a very impressive cake made of diapers - 216 of them! I just had to sneak in a picture of Yvonne and Jen with the teddy bears I knit for them as a small token of appreciation. After the baby comes, who knows when I'll have time flaunt my knitting again?

The two men in my life flitted in and out of the party, each shell-shocked by different things. Vince seemed flustered by all of the ooo-ing, aaah-ing, and estrogen. Oliver seemed dismayed by the fact that the big to-do was over an unborn fetus and not him. He spent most of the day alternating between states of anxiety and panic. After the guests left, the poor exhausted pug collapsed on the nearest lap.

To cap off the baby madness, I went for a routine check-up with my OB. To my shock, I had somehow lost a pound since my last visit. When I relayed this intriguing bit of information to the hubby, he asked, "Did the baby steal it from you?" I hadn't really thought about it like that, but I guess in a way, he did, because by my OB's estimate, he's at about 5 pounds now. And I guess that makes him some sort of parasite, but that's ok by me. Of all the things this baby's taken from me so far - my energy, my waistline, my sunny disposition - I'm not going to argue with him if he wants to steal a few pounds, too!

Ups and Downs

It's a fact of life: A woman's size increases in inverse proportion to the amount of time remaining before her due date. What also increases is how frumpy, lumpy, and dumpy she feels. After taking the latest belly picture, above, I asked hubby in my most beseeching tone, "Am I really huge, sweetie?" Never one to lie, this was his response:

To his credit, he does tell me on a regular basis how much he adores my pregnant hugeness, and you know what? I actually believe that he means it! I guess this is the "thick" part of "through thick and thin." I'll take what I can get in the way of compliments, though, because it seems that the only thing that's shrinking is my self-esteem. Most of my pre-preg wardrobe has been banished to another room where it can't taunt me. On the brighter side, a stranger in a coffee shop told me that I reminded him of Juno. When I returned his comment with a blank stare, he said, "You know, Juno - the sixteen-year-old girl in that movie who gets pregnant?" Man, that just about made my week! I may look huge, swollen, and ungainly, but at least I look like a huge, swollen, and ungainly TEENAGER! I waddled all the way out of the coffee shop with a big, ol' grin on my face.

Yet another thing that's increasing is the amount of baby-related crap I've amassed - itty bitty outfits for the baby to be, maternity clothes for me in ever-increasing sizes, and books. LOTS of books. Check out my current library of baby wisdom (the book on the right is not mine). I've managed to read through most of this stuff already, and I'm hoping that the rest of it I'll learn by osmosis, because I'm in the midst of a knitting frenzy. Over the weekend, I finished hat #2 for Junior. If Vince is really good (and if my fingers stay unswollen long enough), he may just get a matching one!

It's That Time of Year Again

Every year, it seems that the holiday season arrives more and more quickly. Wasn't it just the other day that I was obsessing over buying gifts, baking cookies, and trimming the tree? Speaking of trees, Vince and I were a little late this year with setting ours up. Perhaps it's because baby madness has us preoccupied, or perhaps it's because we were still recovering from hosting Thanksgiving, but we didn't get our tree up until just this weekend. Still, we were thrilled to have found a rather realistic-looking fake tree at our favorite store, Target. And it was on sale, no less! Can't beat that.

To round out the weekend festivities, I knit the little bear you see above. I used Vanessa Carter's pattern for him, which I found on my favorite knitting website, Knitty. To my delight, I was able to finish him in less than a weekend's worth of casual knitting. Even better, he required only about half a skein of yarn! Half a skein!! Laugh, if you will, at my utter elation, but I feel like Christmas came early for this knitter.

The Backseat Pug

People seem to think that once the baby comes, our obsession with Oliver will wane. I personally don't see that happening. After all, this blog is called entitled "Ssk, Pugs, & Rock 'n' Roll," not "Ssk, Babies, & Rock 'n' Roll." Still, Vince has teasingly been calling him "The Backseat Pug." I think he does it just to mess with his little head, and it's kind of mean, especially since it seems that all this baby madness is, indeed, starting to get to him. This past weekend we started prepping the baby's room, and Oliver's reaction was one of downright despondency. He spent a few hours trying to get into the spirit of cribs, bassinets, and baby curtains, and then he vanished.

We found him sulking all by himself on the landing of the staircase. It was heartbreaking. He seemed to feel better after I assured him that babies, not pugs, are actually required by law to be situated in the backseat of the car, and he would retain his rightful place in the front passenger seat.

To ensure that my hubby didn't feel like a Backseat Pug, I made a few of his favorite things - zucchini bread to eat for breakfast and my signature pasta dish for dinner. I've heard the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, so I expected that by making not one, but two of his favorite things, I'd be set. What I did not expect was that he would eat them together. On the same plate. Hmmm. Maybe next week I'll make turkey rice porridge and blueberry muffins together and see what happens.

In knitting news, our Friday Knitting Group is gearing up to send a box of hats to the Head Huggers Project. The hats - dubbed "chemo caps" - will be distributed to hospitals, cancer centers, and hospices to be worn by people recovering from chemotherapy or other treatments. It's nice to know that a pasttime as enjoyable as knitting can be used for such a good cause. If only other hobbies - such as compulsive shopping and idle gossip - could be as beneficial!

Lisa and Jenny are way too excited about knitting these caps! I mean, have you ever seen such glee in a knitter?

My Three Kids

It was a landmark weekend... For one thing, I finished the first of what I hope to be many knitted items for our unborn baby boy - a little Sheldon I lovingly knit in shades of green and blue. You can see that Pug Baby has taken quite a shine to Unborn Baby's new toy, so I think it might be a good idea to knit a slobber-proof, gnaw-proof Sheldon next.

It was a landmark weekend for the hubby, too. Ever since we got hooked on Guitar Hero last year, it's been his dream to rock that plastic guitar in front of a crowd of adoring fans... at Best Buy. It seems that every Best Buy store has a Guitar Hero station set up in a prominent location, and there's always some snotty brat hogging it and showing off his GH skills. Vince won't admit it, but it's obvious by his hovering and lingering glances that he longs to be one of those snotty brats. Well, he finally got his moment in the sun this weekend when we went to a Best Buy and - lo and behold - the GH station was unoccupied. I have to say that Vince did me proud, and I got to be his groupie for three minutes that day.

In the last of my landmark news, I'd like to announce that after a tumultuous on-again, off-again relationship for the past ten months, Lady E and I are finally through. Actually, I was done with the byatch several weeks ago, but I'm only just now getting around to letting the world know about it. The emotions were too raw, you know? And after all that trouble, I realized that she's not even my style. Go figure.

20 Down, 20 to Go

Yesterday marked the end of the first half of my pregnancy. Hip hip hooray! Above, you can see evidence of my burgeoning zaftig-ness. I think most of it can be attributed to the wee Chan, but I'll be honest - some of it might be all of the celebratory eating we've been doing. We're pregnant! Let's eat! We closed escrow on the new place! Let's eat! We closed escrow on the old place! Let's eat! We're done with the first trimester! Let's eat! It's a boy! Let's eat! In fact, to celebrate the halfway point of our pregnancy, guess what we did? That's right, we treated ourselves to a gluttonous feast at Chicago for Ribs. Good thing I took that 20-week picture before dinner.
..I marked the halfway point in my own way by starting a Sheldon for Vince Jr. Oliver seemed to sense that this was a special turtle. As you may recall, the pug has exhibited turtle-cidal behavior in the past, but he left this one in peace. Perhaps it's because Vince made me promise to knit him a turtle of his own.

This morning, we got a chance to say "hi" to Vince Jr. at my Level II Ultrasound, AKA Structure Check. I'd been feeling him move around since my 14th week, but man, was he a squirmy little bugger while the doc was trying to get a look at him! I'm surprised he was able to get any measurements at all. According to Babycenter.com, he's about 10 inches and 10.5 oz now, but he feels much bigger when he kicks me sometimes. I want to tell him to calm down, but I'm so rotund now, I can't get my mouth close enough to my belly to do so. I just end up looking like a crazy person. Instead, I have Vince do it. Somehow, when a man talks to his wife's pregnant belly, it looks cute rather than crazy.
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Grandpug > Son-in-Law

My parents have a really soft spot for Oliver. About 99.9% of my father's emails have some mention of how smart, how funny, or how adorable Oliver is. Prior to getting together with Vince, Oliver was the only man in my life they liked. Then they met Vince, and he joined Oliver's hallowed ranks. Upon meeting Vince for the first time, they gave me confused glances that said, "How the hell did you pull this off?" Despite their approval of my choice in mate, I always suspected that the pug occupied the space closest to their hearts. After we got pregnant, though, I figured that Oliver's sway over them would relax. Father of first grandchild trumps painfully cute grandpug, right? Well, take a look at the above picture, and you tell me. It was snapped last week at LAX mere seconds after my parents exited customs, and it was the first time we saw them since getting pregnant. I found the scene to be wildly amusing until I had a premonition of my parents brushing past my newborn son to see Oliver. Maybe I'll just put them side-by-side in the same bassinet - problem solved!

Oshiri?

You know how people talk about seeing things "through the eyes of a child"? Well, I got to do just that last weekend, and what I saw was Oliver's butthole.

Our good friends Herman and Sachi came over on Saturday with their two adorable kids to check out our new place. While we grown-ups were chatting about grown-up things like mortgages and the amazing decline of the dollar, three-year-old Matthew grew bored and wandered off. Suddenly, we hear him squeal, "Oshiri! Oshiri!!" He's standing about four feet away from Oliver and excitedly pointing at his backside. I ask Sachi what "oshiri" means, and she starts laughing. "Oshiri" is Japanese for "butt." I'd grown so accustomed to Oliver and his puggy anatomy that I no longer noticed that his oshiri was hanging out for all to see. But Matthew noticed. And five minutes later, he also noticed that Oliver's mini-me chew toy was minus one oshiri. As he turned it over in his hands, he looked at his mom quizzically and said, "Oshiri?" And that had us all laughing our oshiris off.

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Below, you can see Oliver has parked his oshiri uncomfortably close to my growing Lady E. He probably doesn't realize that garment is going to be worn right by my face. Or maybe he does.

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T.T.F.N.!

On Friday, Annie broke the news to us that she would be - SOB! - leaving us for greener pastures, AKA San Diego. Oh, cruel world! We beseeched her to stay, plying her with promises of exciting knitting projects to come, but no matter. Her mind was made up. I'm not sure how Friday Knitting Group will be once Annie is gone. She's leaving some very stylish and funny shoes to fill. We'll miss you, Annie!

In other cruel news, I have, as predicted, left Lady E for a younger, thinner project. I'm sure that I'll be back with her once the new fling bores me with her lack of witty repartee on current events.

Lady E, My Fallback Guy

A few weeks ago as I was finishing turtle #8, I realized with dismay that I had no new project planned. No yarn had been purchased, no pattern had been selected. However, my dismay was short-lived when I realized that my hands wouldn't be empty for long, because I have Lady Eleanor. Ah, good ole, faithful Lady E. You remember her, right? I first made Lady Eleanor's acquaintance back in January, and even now, more than seven months later, she's still there for me in my time of knitting need. She's the yarn equivalent of a fallback guy. You know, the guy you always call when you're in between guys, the guy who never asks why you haven't come around or makes you feel guilty for being absent. So I brought Lady E out of hiding, and we'll be hanging out until another younger, more attractive project catches my eye.

Speaking of young and attractive, below are scenes from a recent Friday Knitting Group. Lady E, none of these hussies would love you the way I do!

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