I worked on my sock last night while watching a movie, The Birdcage. I think that there are a few more errors in my sock than there were before, but seeing as they shall only grace my feet and I shall not display them for inspection to any keen knitter, I can live with them.
So I am looking out the window at "flurries". Looks like snow to me. And there is a windchill of -20 this morning and I suggested that my 11 year old wear her snow pants and she refused. Sigh. It has started. Cool wins out over warm. I don't think that she is in danger of frost bite but it is a 20 minute walk to her school. Her choice. Her consequences. So long as they are not endangering her, I shall bite my tongue when she makes choices that I don't agree with. How did my mother do it? Or my grandmother? GOD! That woman had 17 kids! Yup, you read right, 17. Good old back woods New Brunswick RC. Apparently when mom was young (she was #3) when the priest came around, if Memere wasn't pregnant or carrying an infant, he would say that she wasn't doing her job. Her job being, of course, to breed more Catholics. I think that the pope should try having 17 kids and doing all of the work that comes with them. Maybe he would change his tune on birth control. Could you imagine cooking,on a wood stove no less, for 17? Mom left home to go work before her youngest brother was born. In fact my older sister is a year older than our youngest uncle.
We've come a long way, baby!