I'm not dead yet,

although part of me is kind of wishing I were. Allergy season hit with a bang at 11:34 pm on Tuesday, and I'm in the throes of snot rivers, hacking coughs, and bright red itchy eyes. It's been an absolutely spectacular week here weather-wise, and all I've wanted to do is lie on the couch while the girls watch videos. Not good. I finally perked up enough today to actually do some knitting, but I refuse to subject you to more pictures of a colorwork sweater that look exactly the same as the last pictures, even though it is growing ever so slowly.

I do have great plans in mind however, and I'm hoping that I can entice the girls upstairs to wind up some yarn for me. Usually they like doing that! And I hope to have more interesting things to talk about next week when* my pharmaceuticals beat my immune system into some sort of submission.

* Note: that's "when", not "if" because I am nothing if not optimistic. And possessed of a singluar faith in the power of better living through pharmacology. Whether or not that faith is warrented remains to be seen...