Cripes!

First off, thanks to everyone giving suggestions so far on the future shrug-o-lero. I've had a great time seeing so many patterns that I hadn't come across before. I'm putting all names in the big hat at 11:59 on Wednesday night and drawing out a winner for the Mountain Colors. There's still time to enter, and I'm still undecided on the pattern, so don't be shy.

Oh, so many things happening, no new pictures.

Accountant Boy and I got it in our heads that we should finish landscaping the yards this year, so we've spent the last three weekends working outside. We also got it in our heads that Daisy and Falstaff's yard would be easy to landscape if we applied some principles of xeriscaping to it, so we've actually been working in three yards simultaneously. My main jobs were bark shoveling and sprinkler line maintenance. My ankles ache from all of the time spent sitting on my heels to adjust the drip manifolds. The pain wakes me up at night. Note to self: give up dream of being an MLB catcher.

Starsky's almost done! Just the belt left, now. The boring, boring belt. No, I won't call it done and take pictures and be all proud of it without the belt, because it's not completely done, and if I'm allowed to pretend like it is at this point, it never will be. Note to self: knitted belts suck.

Buddy's old owner swung by yesterday while we were toiling in the yard and asked if he could see him. Buddy has now been with us longer than he was with them and, with all of the time and money and love we've poured over him in our eight years, I don't think there's any doubt that he's our cat now. I know the old owner just wanted to say hello to him. Old owner's a sentimental guy. He still owns the house he grew up in on the other side of our back fence. He still has Buddy's mom after fifteen years, along with a few new cats that they adopted to keep her company. They're a big-hearted family, and he's a good man. When I brought Buddy to the door, he didn't quite recognize the booming voice of his old owner and he pushed back against my shoulder. I felt kind of bad about it, because I could see that the old owner's feelings were a little hurt by it. "You guys should come by when you have a few minutes to sit down inside. He doesn't understand why I'm holding him in the open doorway. He'll come right up to you if you're sitting on the couch..." We said that, and we meant it, but still. Note to self: formulate plan for spiriting Buddy away in the dead of night and living on the run with him, should his old owners decide to reclaim him.

Resolutions? Oh, yeah. Those friggin' things. Well, the exercise part's going well, and it's been three weeks since I had a Casper's chili cheese dog. I swam fifty laps in a row last Thursday without using the kickboard, and I felt like I finally understood how to breathe and swim at the same time. Knit from stash is still on track since I've been knitting the same damn sweater for the past four months, and it's out of stash yarn. Be a better programmer is hit-and-miss. I have some days where I feel really good about it, and some days where I don't know what I'm doing, in both the literal and figurative senses. Oh, and we're the crappiest friends in the world, because we STILL haven't written to any of our long-lost pals. So I'm still three for five on the resolutions, but at least it hasn't gotten worse.

Gripey as this sounded, I'm actually in a great mood. My yards are going to be lovely this year, and Daisy and Falstaff's front yard will be, too. The peach tree might actually produce peaches for the first time. I'm almost done with a really involved sweater, just in time for lighter, simpler Spring knitting. I'm getting stronger and sleaker. My ankles hurt, uh, less? Yeah, that's a good thing. My ankles hurt less today than they did last night.

Oh, and since I'm throwing everything but the kitchen sink in this post, here's a gratitude. I'm grateful for this lovely April day, and that I'm less than two hours away from stepping out into it. Maybe I'll go home and take some pictures.