Today, I was going to… And I was going to… But I…

Suddenly realized that if that yarn and needle combo had been scaled down I would have had an entire sock knitted in one day. No time for icing my hands all day long, though, so, no.

Stephanie? Loved your post. Thank you.

A murder of crows not quite daring an attack but doing a slow dive down or rise up towards a larger hawk from above and below, the hawk not in a particular hurry to get away but neither willing to pick a fight. They all disappeared into some tall redwoods near Kepler’s Books as I watched at a red light.

Another hawk flew across the roadway about a mile further along, close enough to see feathers.

And then my own Cooper’s, looping through the foot of the L in the patio here this evening, blue in flight in the lowering sun. It was definitely an add-hawk committee day.

And to top it off I have concocted my first lined hat: it is blocking and I am dancingly pleased beyond all reason.

And the trip to Menlo Park that took me past Kepler’s? I got new handsplints. Better than pain meds, no side effects. They keep my fingers from curling at night, and the first set made for me at the start of my lupus years ago gave me back the use of my then-heavily-inflamed hands–to the point that I was actually able to take up knitting again, whereas I’d been eating with plastic utensils because I could not bear to lift a metal fork to my mouth for the weight of it. I had a child still in diapers. I don’t know how I did it. I only know I’m glad I did.

The splints last about four or five years. It suddenly occurs to me, having never had any option but white before, that “when I am old I shall wear purple” in my sleep. Line them with loose old cotton socks with the heel and toe cut out, and there you go. Usually they only go up to the middle joints of my fingers; with these longer-handed ones, we’re trying something new, and I report back to Lori Stotko, a physical therapist specializing in musicians’ issues in her day job, next week. We may yet shorten the tops.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve almost, almost asked my ward’s chat list if anyone had such socks with holes they were throwing away that I could put to good use.  Can you just picture the potential mountain of singletons…!

Meantime, this is Parker trying to take after me: I pulled the drawers out and climbed a dresser when I was just barely old enough to remember it.

I think he’s just trying to rummage up some old socks there for me. Go Parker!