In my new job we have summer hours for July and August. This means that we get out of the office on three every Friday.
I'm thinking that I should do summer hours for this blog. Knitting just isn't doing it for me lately. Most of this is due to the heat, as I've written before. I've got projects hanging out all over the place. First, we have the purple cardi, which needs a good blocking. Then we have the baby booties. Baby booties! Such teeny things, and they're in the UFO pile. Shame on me! And what more, I like knitting baby booties. This shows you how low the knitting mojo is around here.
But, we're also househunting for the new chez Subway Knitter, and I find this a bit distracting. Because of that, when I do have a few down moments I prefer to sink into some fiction, rather than my knitting (which always gives me a clear head to think, think, interest rates, think, square footage, think, think, this is never going to end, think, think, closing costs). Personally, I find the business of looking for a place slightly less stressful than the business of selling a place. Strangers traipsing through my space? Not my idea of a good time. When I had showings for the condo I made sure that anything very personal was hidden away. I didn't want you to know anything about me.
Apparently I was unusual in this desire. We're looking at lots of places and in them I often notice many personal items. I know names, I see what the owner(s) look(s) like. I know what they do for work. I know how much they owe in common charges.
And in fact, in one place we saw I know something else:
Ha! You just never know where you're going to find one of us. This place didn't happen to make our cut (a five-foot wide room is not a "second bedroom" even by NYC standards). I'm not going to buy a place just because a knitter lives there, even if the stash is included.