I'm a little bit homesick lately. Not for the humidity of DC - perish the thought! But I miss having my folks and brothers so close. On a long weekend I'd invite myself over to their house, make Bubba marinate some flank steak and open the good wine, and curl up in a giant chair and bask in their A/C. Lady and I might venture out on a shopping excursion or disgust Bubba with some sort of glutinous t.v. marathon. It was pretty wonderful.
With my friends out of town for the weekend, I find myself facing a three-day weekend on my lonesome. And lonesome is an apt description. I'm going through a little lonely spell, anyway, without friends who are free to join me for blues night, or grab a spontaneous drink. So I've delved back into knitting, which I'd gotten back into last winter, but now I think I qualify as somewhat obsessed. (Fortunate in timing, since the world is currently breeding.) I haven't been to blues night lately, but I'm requiring my own attendance this week.
And this weekend? The prescription is projects. This morning I made a trip for outdoor furniture, and I'm about to pull the boxes in from the car for construction. I'm creating a space that I'll actually use on the balcony, and since it stays light here past 8pm, odds are good that it will get used often. Especially, since I intend to buy a neon orange grill. Additionally, I'm teaching myself to knit socks from the toe up. Two at a time.
If these two activities don't keep me content, I don't know what will.
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