Rain

I should be cleaning house today. Should be. However, on days such as today I don't want to do anything but sit and write or knit. I have a knitting pattern that I need to work on for one of my books. It's not that difficult, but it sort of niggly and needs to be fiddled with to make the pattern repeat nicely in 84 stitches. And I need to figure out what yarn to do the hat in as well. (Perhaps that should have been the first step, but I at least know I want to do it in a worsted weight yarn on size US 8 needles, so that helps limit things.) So I sit balancing delightful fun creativity with dust bunnies and dishes. The Practical Person would not be sitting here at the computer blogging about why she doesn't want to do dishes and should really be working on her pattern that needs to be finished. a Practical Person would instead be trying to get the dishes done quickly and sweep up the dust bunnies so that she could sit and sketch and chart and sample as well as have clean dishes to eat off at dinner time (although I'm actually considering Chinese take out which means I just need to wash chopsticks, right?)

Unfortunately (?) I am not a Practical Person. I'm a writer and a knitter. And it is raining. The soft plinking on the windows of raindrops is a coy reminder that I would much prefer to be sitting here considering what chapter is really missing in Echo's book or playing with needles. It sings out, "Come write, Lorna. Come write" with every tapping on the window that mimics the tapping of fingers on a keyboard. Then it whispers, "Knit, knit, knit" as the wind swishes a soft spray against the window, reminding me of bamboo needles rubbing against each other.

I believe I am going to be a Not Practical Person today and just pay the kids to do it all and be satisfied that there are still some dust bunnies dancing around the legs of furniture and that the dishes may not all be perfect.