what's a holiday without a hat?

Christmas has Santa hats, New Year's has party hats, Halloween has... well, all kinds of headgear. Thanksgiving, according to my sister and me, has a Mexican Disneyland feel to it:

(I finished my dad's Christmas socks and started my mom's. Today, the ankle tube; tomorrow, the heelflap; the day after that or possibly next week, the world!)

this year I'm thankful for Cascade Pastaza

because it is so soft and the colors are so rich.
I'm getting on a plane in a few hours and my mom's pecan pie is awaiting me. Oh yeah, and the rest of the dinner, and you know, my family. (The lineup this year, should you care, is two parents, one grandparent, two sisters, one sister's boyfriend, one sister's fiance, one nephew, one aunt, and two cousins, with another aunt and cousin coming the next day.) I'm excited. I love Thanksgiving. Besides the food and the importance of gratitude and (at my house) the inevitable game of Trivial Pursuit ("Ty Cobb! No, Babe Ruth! STUPID SPORTS QUESTIONS!!!"), there's a nice certainty to Thanksgiving. You know how at Christmas there's always a ridiculous public debate about whether it's okay to wish strangers Merry Christmas, since you don't know whether they celebrate it or not but at the same time the intention is not to offend but blah blah whatever I'm so bored of it and I actually celebrate Christmas. (I can't imagine how dull it must be to people who don't.) Well, you can wish anybody Happy Thanksgiving.

(Also, I thought you'd all like to know that while most liquids and gels are restricted to three ounces, you can carry on all the medically-necessary KY Jelly you want. Go nuts.)

panta!

Pattern: Craftster's ubiquitous panta
Yarn: ? Leftover from a scarf I made last year for Christmas, and I can't find the ball band. I know where this yarn was stocked at Village before the move, but I don't remember the name, so I have no idea where it is now.
Picture: blurry, because my hands will not stop shaking today.
In other news, I picked out the bind-off on the neckline of my original LMKG Hourglass Sweater, having decided the neckline wasn't high enough and was going to fall off my shoulders annoyingly all day long (much like the very disappointing second Hourglass Sweater). I knit it up a big higher and bound it off in stockinette, so that it rolls a little bit, because I will be damned if I will sew down another hem. Handsewing. Blargh. It's blocking now. FO pics forthcoming. I think I'm going to wear it on Thanksgiving. Wish me luck not dropping any food on it. (That won't happen, but that's why I used superwash.)

are you sitting down?

Today in news that will shock no one: my love affair with green continues. The color of the yarn (more Cascade Pastaza, for my mom's Christmas socks) is pretty accurate; the color of the mug and the green chile packet is also; the color of my kitchen is totally wack. It is not yellow. My camera works in mysterious ways its wonders to perform.

er... yeah

This is what happens when you brag...
You don't knit for almost two weeks.
You don't blog for almost a month.
You glance at your WIP basket and shudder with guilt.
And still you do nothing.
I broke through the doldrums yesterday at SNB though--I'm halfway through my dad's second Christmas sock (and no, Molly, my parents don't read my blog--at least I don't think so! if you're reading, Dad, look away!--so I can safely post pics), and going to hit the Village tomorrow to pick up yarn for my mom's socks.
(I've noticed lately that I say "hit" a lot. It's funny because I tease my mom for saying "bop," as in, "We're going to bop over to the post office on the way to the grocery store" and sometimes, even worse, that "we're going to do a bop-n-drop," meaning go someplace and drop someone or something off. Well, I totally do the same thing with "hit." When I'm a grandmother, I'll still be using my outdated slang and kids will snicker--"she's going to hit the orthopedic shoe store?")