Not that Stevie Nicks knows anything about winter here in the Midwest. 

My apologies again for the time span between posts.  Mostly, I’m just too addlepated to hook up my camera to my computer and download the pictures I’ve taken for Blog Stalker 2.  I’m also not quite sure what to write about here, as I haven’t baked much, my current knitting projects are gifty, and politics just makes me tired.  Maybe I should have signed up for NaBloWriMo or whatever it’s called.  Who chose November, anyway, for all this?  They could have picked something more convenient.

In a startling turn of events, it’s finally become somewhere approaching cold here, or as they say on the weather reports when they don’t want people to panic, ‘seasonal’.  Just say cold, guys.

My fears aren’t of the temperature (though Betsy’s engine balks if it’s below 50), but more of snow–I can’t remember if I blogged about last year’s November 30 to December 1 massive snowfall.  It’s the one thing we don’t need, as we are moving across town right after Christmas.  Bing Crosby be darned; I won’t be dreaming of white then, I’ll probably be dreaming of boxes.  And packing, I hate packing.  Packing and snow nightmares, wonder what Freud would say.  So I’m thinking that the corset top won’t get blocked until after all of this, just for space reasons.  I may hibernate it on Ravelry, much as it breaks my heart to do so.

In the midst of all of this prep (included in the prep work: keeping my mother sane) comes my 24th birthday and Thanksgiving.  I can tell you this, I don’t want any STUFF this birthday.  ‘Cause I’ll have to pack it.

Speaking of pack, I won’t be surprised if the tension of every single Packers game this year kills someone with a heart condition.  It’s one heck of a season.  I might make an exception to the rule of no birthday stuff for some custom Packer-coloured Scout’s Swag yarn, though.