Knitting and kitty therapy

My grandfather put his teeth in a glass; I get an implant. This morning, instead of a school chair, I sat in the chair of my periodontist (like the man but hate what he does to my gums), so he could screw a post into the soft tissue of my lower jaw and the bone beneath it. Fortifying myself to the prospect of sitting with ice pack on the cheek and ibuprofen in the gut, I, last night in sleep's twilight, started thinking of an enticing knitting project. Because I have knit enough sweaters, sweater vests, and hats with Lion's Brand Cotton Ease, I now have a bag full of enough yarn (albeit different colors and varying amounts) for a "Wonderful Wallaby," a pattern I have possessed for years yet never made. I love these Cottage Creation patterns, written and published by a true cottage industry, a mother/daughter team from Carpenter, Iowa. So here I sit, Lily at my side, a bag of color beside me, my knitting needles in hand, while I puzzle out a striping pattern to use up this leftover yarn in a creative way. Certainly, a good diversion for a gray and ouchy day.

In one week and two days (not that I am counting), I will see my now five year old grandson, who has claimed his climbing place--a magnolia bush in the sprawling land surrounding his Southern home. This sweater is for Alex. I hope he wears happily what will be a sweatshirt of many colors, and I hope he dirties it with grand adventure in the springtime of his home. Just thinking about THAT makes me feel better already.