Last winter I made Ellie a sweater, mailed it to Italy... she reported that despite swatching and measuring and everything it was somewhat large. We consider shrinking it. We are scared. It fits me fine, although it's more her colors than mine. Rueful. Warm.
My class with Beth-Brown-Reisel, whom I liked very much (she put up with someone in the room pontificating about pre-Columbian civilization the Americas and she is a good, light-hearted, informative-without-being-imperative type of teacher) did not address aging cats who don't want you to do intarsia, or people who get home from work and crawl into AubreyandMaturin and macaroni and wine.
Splendid Japanese English (much better than my Japanese), and a nice product.
Dick is doing very well and has permission to drive. Mostly I was happy to hear, since he is sleeping some 15 hours a day, that it doesn't hurt when he turns over anymore.
Autumn is pretty much named Willow, particularly when she jumps Toby. Doug swears her eyeballs turn black (I cannot find a picture to link to, but MANY people have named their pets after characters on Buffy). She turns out not to be either pregnant or spayed, the latter condition both a)proving she is not Keet-sue (Did I tell you Miss Tucker turned up uninjured in the barn next door to her home?)and b)subject to change after Thanksgiving.
Asterix is apparently feeling Just Great, even if he is bony. He has taken to jumping up to my windowsill to sit on the microwave to persuade me to give him milk, or he will deep-six the teapot.
It got cold. It's mid-November, it has permission. Today is, in fact, the 28th anniversary of my marriage (and about the ninth anniversary of its breakup). We're still speaking. Kids are healthy. Could have been much, much worse.