A Sore Derrier

I have a need to blog today although I have nothing to show as far as knitting is concerned. So here is some eye candy of past knitting:

Socks knit from Baby Ull with the Lithuanian Lily of the Valley pattern Matching Scarf

I am still slugging away at The Fisherman's Wife shawl. The rows are long, and I have to wind the rest of the yarn into a ball in order to knit with it. But it is beautiful and I only have 20 rows to go in this section. At first, I was a bit concerned whether or not I had enough yarn, but I have half of the skein left and we are about 2/3 done. So I should have plenty.
As soon as this one is done the next one Secret of Bad Nauheim starts. I think I am going to wait a while with it and do another lace knit-along. This one is from the Yahoo Group EZasPi. Liz Lovick from the Orkney Islands is going to do a Pi shawl with Orkney lace patterns as a KAL. Orkney lace patterns, apparently, are a little less complicated to knit, and I need something like that right now. I hope to raid Angie's stash of Shetland hand-spun yarn to knit it.

I also fell today. As most of Michigan, we had ice before the snow over the weekend. I went out to pay our snow plowing guy and there was nothing but ice under the snow. With my feet flying out from under me, I saw his shovel on the front of his truck out of the corner of my eyeball and made the snap decision to fall with my head raised up instead of letting it bounce off the snow plow shovel. I am a bit shook up and my right wrist and thumb and, of course, my derriere hurt. So much for being graceful.

I found this poem on Northern Doe's site at Multiply.com. The author is unknown to me. It seems apropos to my current situation and probably fits many a state in the US right now. A friend of ours said the other day, she can't wait for May. Funny when we lived in southeastern Ohio, Spring came in March. Reminds me of the first winter I spent in Michigan; the blizzards and the snow were still flying in April.

Michigan Poem

It's winter in Michigan
And the gentle breezes blow
Seventy miles an hour
At twenty-five below.
Oh, how I love Michigan
when the snow's up to your butt
You take a breath of winter
And your nose gets frozen shut.
Yes, the weather here is wonderful
So I guess I'll hang around
I could never leave Michigan
'Cause I'm frozen to the ground!!

"Knit On!"