Tell me this. How am I supposed to make David either a birthday or Christmas present when he is here so often? It was hard enough crocheting the Wolves blanket last year when he was still a student, and there were times I knew he wouldn't turn up. We had both hoped that he would have got a traineeship by now, and not just so I could get more quality wool time.
I know what I want to make him for his birthday (which is on Wednesday). I have an idea of how long it will take to make (2-3 evenings). I just have to get started which is difficult because there are new things I want to make, and I have made one of these before. I'm being cagey in case he actually reads this.
Which reminds me, does anyone else's other half say things like "You love your wool more than you love me?" He's joking but there might be a grain of real anxiety in there. Who can tell? People get anxious about the strangest things. No one knows that better than me. It's when he finds wool & needles under the pillows or knitting books under the duvet that he gets really suspicious.
I can't help it. I don't sleep well and before I got this internet-goodness, I had to do something until my brain slowed down enough to let me sleep. Hence, the overnight shawl, the massive scarf that took two nights and the day in between, the mysterious bags of wool under the bed, the huge pile of patterns and pattern books in the bedroom. It is all very relaxing and non-contraversial, which is something my brain demands if it is too switch off at all.
David left about half an hour ago. He'll probably come round tomorrow about 2 pm. That gives me, what? Nineteen hours to make his birthday present? Better stop arsing around online and get to work.