It’s not always rainbows and butterflies; it’s compromise that moves us along

. . . but today it's rainbows and butterflies. I spent the day at the pool. A little humid, but all in all a deliciously sunny afternoon with a bit of a breeze.

Then I came home and got ready to go run some errands. Important stuff, you know, like Starbucks and Trader Joes. Can't possibly be skipped. I put on my summer uniform of jeans and a black tank top, then added a Sox hat 'cause I didn't really want to wash my hair. I looked in the mirror before I left, and was fully satisfied. I'm not sure if it's a thing that comes with age, or if it's the tan or the fact that I've been working hard at the gym, but lately I've been increasingly happier with what I see in the mirror. I think as a kid I always thought 29 was so old and for sure I'd be over the hill by then (hee hee, you know how anything above eighteen seems REALLY old when you're little?). Well, I think I'm growing into myself maybe. Or something. Now my cheeks are blushing. Moving right along.

I've got a few finished knitting things to show you, mostly bags that might hold socks. Wonder why, hmmm? They both need felting though, so I'll hold off on showing you some pictures. I also finally finished one Tropicana sock and am getting going on the second one. I'm fighting hard to avoid Second Sock Syndrome, but I'm so tired of these socks already.

Last night I took a break from socks to make some stitch markers. Cute, no?

When they're finished, they'll be shipped off to secret pals. Of course, I'll have to make a new set for myself too. I ran out of supplies halfway through the second set, and I haven't added the rings to the tops yet. Looks like another trip to the craft store. That's ok though, because I'm also thinking about making this, and I'll need to pick up a few things. I need another bag like I need a hole in the head, but I can't help myself. Chances are it'll take a while for me to get going on it anyway. Unless of course it rains tomorrow and I can't go to the pool.

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