Come to the Dark Side, Seth

Happy Tuesday, evry-bod-y!**

Today, I spilled a full eight ounces of very noodly soup right in my lap.** Nobody has seen this (yet), which is the enormous saving grace. I know I will dry out eventually.

Also? You may not believe this. I'm having trouble myself. Remember how I went to get the Book Club book a couple of weeks ago? And how it was shelved under the name of the book instead of the name of the author? Remember this story? Remember how I lost the last two Book Club books?

Oh, yeah. I did it again.

Oops.

[SUMMARY: It sounds deliberate, but it's not even careless, it's just supernatural.]

Where the hell are these books going? Some people lose socks in the dryer. I apparently have book gnomes (maybe trolls -- I think Laurie has the market cornered on gnomes). I had to buy another copy. I'm halfway through it. Let's hope I don't lose it again before Book Club tomorrow night.

Perhaps one of you should step in and take my car keys from me. If I can't handle a cup of soup or even a book... well, heavy machinery is out of the question.

Ah, but despite the woes, the week is gearing up. I knit a repeat on the Lacy Racy Bellocqs last night and I'm just as enamoured of lace as I could be. I almost can't wait to start the Print O' the Wave, only I'm still a teensy bit intimidated.

And I have ten projects on the needles.

Would eleven be excessive?

The fact that I'm asking my knittas and not, say, my father, only proves I'm not remotely interested in a dispassionate third-party sort of answer to that question.

Did I mention I may start spinning? Just to try? I can always stop? Really?

[SUMMARY: How many people want to see me take on another obsession? Show of hands...]

Babbling.

Before I go, I have to say the soup-in-the-lap thing (and for my next trick...) was completely mitigated by the following email from the mother-to-be, sister to the inimitable Seth, the Knitting Seven-Year-Old:

"...we just stopped at Wal Mart last night and bought Seth some needles and yarn and he actually began knitting. We couldn't get him to think of anything else or to put it down once he started.

I think he would have sleep with the needles had we let him! I just spoke with my Mom and Seth didn't want to go to school...he just wanted to knit!

Thanks again for spending the time teaching him!"

I really like that last bit. Like I'm not getting WAY more out of this than Seth is.

[SUMMARY: I may be able to give up sex to have time for spinning if I can just experience the get-off factor of teaching someone to knit, say, once a week.]

Y'all know.

Happy Tuesday. Keep an eye on your soup.

**FOOTNOTE (asterisked): Going for a Dr. Nick thing there.

**FOOTNOTE (asterisked): I'll admit one of the first thoughts was, "Please don't burn, don't burn, don'tburndon'tburndon'tburn... I don't wanna explain blisters *there*..."

**FOOTNOTE (unasterisked): Oh yeah! It's SticksNStringsNBeerNWings night! Things are looking up. If I don't spill beer on a baby blanket. Or someone else's knitting.