Cloistered with a germ-bag, as my father has affectionately named the little ones, has given much knitting time. And yet, I'm knitting .500.
Finished a gift cowl. It's alright. Knit another for myself. It looks like fiberous poop.
Knit a gift for hubby while he's been gone. Nasty and ripped it.
Now I'm knitting a swatch for a gnome.
Besides the typical medicines one administers in times like this, we have been administering steady doses of technology. For those of you who don't know us, we have no TV. We still manage to do adequate brain rotting via computers and DVDs.
What're you doing?