Boring blogger

I realize that at least part of the reason why posts have been sporadic lately is because photography has been sporadic as well. I keep thinking that I'll wait to post until I've taken some pictures to share, but I'm not taking any pictures at all. Mostly I'm running from the moment I leave the house at 7:15 until the moment I get home at oh-my-goodness o'clock, when it's dark (not that I have to get home that late in order to come home in the dark, but you get the idea). None of that is conducive to photography. And, quite frankly, I've been knitting and knitting and knitting on Elektra Redux (and am currently the better part of the way through sleeve two, in case you're keeping track), which isn't that interesting to blog about anyway, since you've already seen the whole process. I am looking forward to knitting something else, although I'm starting to wonder if I'll know how to knit anything but garter stitch when this is over.

I have a slate of projects lined up, including the socks for my niece that I mentioned last time. I also would like to finish Rick's socks. I think that those two pairs might be my conference and travel to Philadelphia knitting. (BTW, how do people from Philadelphia feel about other people calling their city "Philly"? I realized that I do it myself, but knowing how people from the city -- that would be San Francisco, of course, are there any other cities? heh -- feel about "Frisco" or "San Fran", it occurred to me that I probably ought to ask...) I have another small unbloggable project coming up, but I think I'll probably be working on that next week. That will be the Thanksgiving trip to Sacramento knitting (that is, it will be once I've finished Elektra). I also would really love to knit these up for the girls; we have a long tradition of giving them pjs on Christmas eve, and slippers seem like they'd be the perfect go-along. I don't know how realistic that is, but I did get the yarn for them while I was at Yarning For You yesterday, so I'll be knitting them at some point. (I also got myself some laceweight cashmere/silk, oops, but we're not talking about that right now...)

Older Daughter has an orchestra concert tonight (adding to the scheduling insanity of our days, but very exciting as the orchestra has progressed amazingly since her first concert last year!), and I think that I'll be able to knit Elektra during that (if I can keep track of colors and balls of yarn in the dark), so maybe that sleeve will get finished in time for me to get some seaming help before we hit the road on Saturday morning? It's a race to the finish, with mattress stitch on the line; exciting times...

So it's really not that I'm not knitting and thinking about knitting, it's just that I'm not blogging much about it. So I'll leave you with a teaching moment story instead. The other day in class the topic of Easter came up, and someone asked what was up with the bunnies and eggs and things, how do they fit in to the whole Easter story? And I pointed out that they are an overlay from other traditions, because they fit in with the theme of new life, but the bunnies and eggs come from traditions that more explicitly connected to the whole fertility side of new life (oversimplifying a little, but it was an off-topic question). You know, I said, rabbits being fertile animals and all. And, I said, if you think about eggs, there they are, this little white rock-like thing, and then poof! they crack open and you've got a chick.

As I uttered the word "chick", one student sitting in front of me got the most amazing look of dawning enlighenment on his face. I could practically see the lightbulb going off. So I gave him the quizzical teacher look (you know, the one that says, yes? would you like to share?). I don't know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn't what he said.

"I always thought that it was the bunnies who laid the eggs!"

I went straight home and made absolutely sure that the girls knew that mammals (barring the platypus and echidna, I was careful to add) do not, I repeat do not, lay eggs.