No one was around today to snap a photo for me, so I did the old hold-the-camera-in-front-of-myself-and-take-a-picture (or several) while holding Spencer outside on the porch after we got back from the preschool drop-off and the 45 minute wait in the post office line to buy holiday stamps.
As a result of the way I took the photo, you can't see much detail about the hat other than the general color of the variegated yarn. But, you can see that's it's finished! That it's adorable. And that the 18-4 yr size wasn't too bad for my almost 10-month old baby. Granted, the roll on this roll-brim is much smaller than what you see here. But that's the beauty of making things a bit bigger. You just roll it up some more, and then he's gone some room to grow, and a hat that next year we'll ooh and aah over because we remember it from this year, too.
I do have to say I loved, loved, loved this yarn. The funny thing is that I have two skeins of it, and both of them have been without labels since I pulled the yarn out to make the hat. I did, at last, stumble over one last night when sorting out a bag of knitting stuff as I'm trying to gather a stock of needles to take home with me next week.
The yarn is Prisme from Bergere de France. It's 80% acrylic, 20% polyamide, and it's a wonderful braided (chained?) yarn. I don't know if I've ever used a yarn like it before. It's also very, very soft, and has a fuzzy hand to it, that makes you think of angora. It was great to work with, and it's just perfect for the baby - not too bulky but warm and oh-so-soft.
I picked the yarn up last spring. We were shopping a sale at a local yarn store, and I'd bought a number of things for myself and was feeling guilty that I hadn't bought more yarn to make things for the boys. I spied the red yarn, was pulled in by the feel of it, and the two skeins came home. Now I'm so glad they did!
So, the countdown has begun. We leave in 10 days, and we've got list after list of "before-we-go-TO-DO" to prove it. We shipped out 7 gigantic boxes last week, and over the weekend we broke down and did holiday cards. I don't know if it was just a result of reading Skipping Christmas or something else, but I was really in an anti-card most this year. I just didn't really want to do/write/send them. But, I gave in to the pressure of the season and cranked out my stack over the weekend, hence the run to the post office today.
Of course, the man in front of me had to be a chatty man. Not to me. But to Spencer (bjorned in front of me), which, of course, means I had to fill in and answer all the questions he was asking my 10-month-old who, naturally, can't talk. Sigh. I'm one of those people that people always talk to in those circumstances - you know, circumstances where you don't want to be bothered. M., the more social of the two of us by far, can go somewhere and no one will say a word to her. Me, someone's always got to talk to me. If we're in a grocery store or a store like Wal-Mart, invariably someone stops me and asks me where something is or how much something is - like I work there. I'm not sure what it is about me, but it's strange. I'm shy initially. I'm reticent. I'm not talkative unless you know me well. I don't make friends easily. But the man in the tweed blazer with the ripped elbow and two cheap stick ink pens in his inside pocket decided to talk to us.
Ahh, well, at least he realized Spencer is a little boy. (Good since he very much looks like a little boy, and still people refer to him as a she. The same was true with Matthew. But with him, he had no hair until he was much older, so I could see why someone might not be sure. But Spencer definitely looks like a boy. Having done more than my share of feminist theory, you would think I wouldn't care!) And he guessed him to be 10 months. And, he seemed generally interested in my cute baby. I do love it when men stop to talk to my babies. I'm used to women doing it, but I always say you know you have a cute child when men do it. Of course, that's probably totally untrue. It's more likely that it's just a man that likes children. Either way, it's a nice thing to see.
So, the man in front of us talked on and off to us. Then the group of women behind me got all worked up about the automated postal machine. They all appeared to be strangers, too, but in a communal attempt to beat the lines, they loudly helped each other use the machine to post their packages. Once two of them had successfully used it, the man in front of me decided he'd try it, too. It was pretty funny all in all.
I am glad the cards are mostly done. The packages are all wrapped and in route to KY. Only a few last items remain to be ordered.
In my head, I've moved on to thinking about New Year's lists and goals and projects. It's endless. I wish sometimes I could just shut my brain down for a little while and take in what's happening "in the moment." But, right now, there's just too many things on the to-do list.
Matthew was up before me yesterday (which almost never happens), and I asked him, "How long have you been up?"
"Hmmm. I think about 30 hours," he says very seriously.
I had to laugh.
But what a wonderful stage - when time has no real meaning. When you measure days by whether it's light or dark or by whether something gets done or is coming before or after breakfast. When you ask every day, "Is it Spring yet, Mama?"