Our beautiful spring weather–it was 72F on Saturday–is gone. Alaska who pushed it away and it’ll get back to us later.
I woke up this morning and refused to believe it and put on two layers of 3/4 sleeves, the second a fairly warm sweater and only because I had to.
That should do it.
But no.Â I got out the wool knee-highs.Â It’s not winter! Stop it! Do you see the green on that plum tree? (Embiggen photo. Squint hard.) Does that not insist spring? I did not pull my get-well afghans over me, although I should have.
A few hours later, still unwilling to concede but being just too chilled to knit and finding that motivation to get up and do something about it, I went and got a handknit hat and that helped too for awhile. But.
And then at last I put on my fingerless gloves, but it was a little hard to maneuver silk around wood in them–ergo, I took my thumb out and pushed them back onto my wrists. Full length sleeves now! There you go!
This particular pair of the several I’ve been gifted with has thumb gussets and they did look odd dangling off my wrists like the back of a raptor’s claw, but hey–not only was I visually reminded with every stitch of my own of all the people who have knitted to make me happy, by golly I was finally warm at last.
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