Hello, my chickens.
I have been internet-less! By choice, not by anything else, and it’s been nice. I’m at the parents’ house right now, and I’m stealing just a few minutes to say hello because I miss you! I do!
We had a very sweet, very nice, impromptu Christmas visit (I’ll be with Lala’s family in Boise for the real day). Sisters Christy and Bethany were here already on Sunday and Monday, helping get the tree, and I came down on Monday morning. We did gifts (from them to me and from me to them) and it felt like Christmas morning, only with a little less fanfare, which was lovely. We even had stollen, our traditional Christmas breakfast. No one makes it like Mom, although Trader Joe’s isn’t bad.
I came away with SUCH a haul. A sock-dying kit, a subscription to the New Yorker (thank goodness I will be smart again), the sweatshirt that I wanted, the BEST tee-shirt evar (will post a picture sometime, it’s very wool related), and a copy of my great-great grandfather’s autobiography — Jim Herron was the first sheriff of the Oklahoma Panhandle (before it was such a thing) and then got accused of cattle-rustling, so lived for fifty years on the lam, on the Owl-Hoot Trail. It’s pretty well-written, actually. I’m loving it. And Christy found it on Amazon. Seriously, the internet is an amazing place, isn’t it?
Yesterday Mom and I did a massive grocery shop, and today we’ll just have fun. Going to the bead store, and the yarn store, and a winery or two…. Then tonight I’ll drive myself and The Cat home. Digit has been here, being admired by all his Arroyo Grande fans. He’s been kind of a jerk, as usual, bouncing poor Mouse, Mom’s old timid kitty, and waking me at 3:30 in the morning by yowling. But we’re glad to be here together, that’s all I know.
Oh, and we listened to a tape we recorded twenty-three years ago — I was twelve-ish, and the first thing you can hear me talking about is knitting. And interestingly enough, I talk about knitting a plain row, then a purl row. Knit a plain row, then a purl row. I think because I learned the basic stitches from Mom at age five or six and then taught myself everything else, I called the knit stitch the plain stitch. I remember calling it that, for years and years and years. Also, I knew I was bossy. Yes, I did. You can hear me bossing Christy and Beth around, which they took with grace. But such a ham! I sing! I play the piano! I identify myself by first and last name as least twice, as if people will someday be interested in listening in. Which I was. So I was right.
Get a Free Short Story!
Subscribe to get a free copy of Socks for Alex, a Cypress Hollow Short Story, compatible with all devices!