My father passed away on Tuesday of last week; we buried him on Thursday. It's been a very difficult week...one that as I think back on it feels more like a month. But it was only a week...and a very difficult one at that, as I said.
At the memorial service on Thursday people offered condolences and I remember saying "I don't know how we'll carry on without Daddy." It's still difficult to understand, but I know we will because other people have. It'll be hard, but it'll happen.
And in the spirit of carrying on, I had to "rescue" a skein of yarn last night. The kitties don't always have full access to my studio. They like to sleep in the baskets of yarn and I don't like knitting with kitty hair flying in my face.
But yesterday, the level of activity with the yarn went to a different character...it became mean. One of the little furry critters went in there and mutilated a brand new skein of my Cephalopod yarn:
If you're counting, that's 29 separate balls of yarn I wound off this morning. 29! Whichever one it was (I suspect Zora because Pearl's level of play is less destructive, but I could be wrong) decided to kill this skein of yarn and did a pretty good job at it.
I'm going to make a scarf out of it. There are still too many weak spots in the longer strands of yarn to use the yarn as warp, so it'll be weft yarn only with a lovely maroon cotton for the warp. Or maybe green. Haven't decided yet.
Daddy's Story: One of the things my daddy always did was take some silly thing we said as children and tell it back to us over and over and over again. When I was younger he told me about being found under the telephone pole and that I was naked in that princess telephone box. I told him "uh-uh...I was born with a diaper on." And for the rest of his life, he told me that I was born with a diaper on...unlike every other kid in the world!