I am frustrated.
I have a new computer, and the computer is not cooperating with me. It's especially perplexing because this is supposed to be one of the good computers, the kind whose name rhymes with Smacintosh.
I knew there would be a learning curve with the keyboard shortcuts and the different menus, and I was prepared for that. I hired someone to come and do the data transfer from my old machine to the new one so the transition would be as seamless as possible. Instead, my new Smacintosh is misreading all of my 5000+ picture files, none of my photo editing software is locating the appropriate libraries, and Yarnista is not a happy camper right now.
So I will distract myself (and you) from the frustration by posting old, sentimental photos that are blurry and badly sized, but still so sweet that I can't help it.
This is my little Sunny Delight at age 18 months. Even then, she spent all her time scribbling and coloring. She's now rounding the corner towards six, and wakes up every morning wanting to make books, write letters, and draw pictures.
I got a water table just so I could take pictures like this one:
This is an adorable little coat I knit for Sunny Delight when she was a teeny baby. It's knit from denim yarn. Which, I learned, does not stretch. This sweet little thing fit for about a week before it was too tight to get on her. Today's lesson = do not knit baby clothes from denim yarn. No.
This is a picture of me and a group of Law students taken on the steps of the US Supreme Court in 2006. It has nothing to do with knitting, except that my students used to tease me about it. "Will you knit me a scarf?" "How about a hat?" "I saw this sweater at the mall and I really wanted it, but it was $40. Can you knit me one instead?" (No, no, and no.) These students are all now finishing college. That makes me old. Some of them still write to me. At least one of them will be a senator, I promise you that.
Apparently, I used to be emaciated. No one told me. Why did no one say, "Sharon, you're emaciated. Eat more Butterfingers!"
Ah, back when I was younger and thinner:
Mr. McBoy was such a cute two year old.
And a cute three year old.
And he's still a very very big, very cute eight year old.
I used to have a colorway called McKenna. It matched a baby blanket someone sent me.
My sister looks like a movie star like 6 hours after having her fourth child.
If you don't want to squeeze these thighs, get your blood pressure checked.
And, just for good measure, take a tip from me. Ruffled shorts only look cute on babies.
I remember buying the pink and purple yarn at the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival. Which I did not get to go to this year. And now I'm sitting here frustrated again, only this time with a Smacintosh.