, , , , , , , , , ,


This weekend was warm.

Cut offs warm – sitting bayside in the sun, feet propped high chatting with my sisters while a dozen sailboats float like dandelion fluff on the water.  Two little Key West Doves cooing under my feet on the rocky shore.  7 kayaks paddling fiercely against the tide not even a stone’s throw offshore.  Coming home for the first game, digging around looking for my circular 8s, pulling out straight 9s instead.  Working a swatch with doors and windows wide open.  Sun dappling through the gumbo-limbo while itty-bitty Palm Warblers flit between the hibiscus and the banana tree flipping their tails coquettishly at me when I step into the Florida Room.  Chilled white wine for me, spiced Golden Monkey for Hal (like kissing &*%# potpourri).  I now have 5 strong and sensual, golden and sparkling ales to savor.


My swatch is 1/2″ too big.  Where are my circular 8s???  Does anybody remember what I was last knitting on them?