My son was supposed to be out of town today. He left me a voicemail at the office, and when I returned it I got his voicemail, and on it went all afternoon. I was trapped in meetings all day today - I live close to the office and didn't get home to walk the Bossy One at lunch as I normally try to do. The dog has excellent bladder control, but everybody has a limit. So I rushed home after the meetings finally broke up, and missed a fancy steak dinner (though I'm not overly heartbroken about that) so I could tend to my dog. I found out later that Boy had already come by and walked the dog, while stealing my "patio furniture" - that's in quotes because there is no damn patio, for reasons to tedious to explain - from my weed-infested backyard. I had told him to take it, please, he can use it and it's just cheap Rubbermaid stuff, and it will be months before that yard is fit for human habitation. So he also walked the dog while he was here, just to be helpful. I didn't know this until we finally talked this evening. So I missed a fancy dinner because we never connected on the phone, and marveled at the dog's stunning display of bladder control for no reason, but I have a good son, and that's worth more than a steak dinner I didn't really have room for anyway.


Amusing Twilight Zone Moment: Faithful readers (all three of you) may recall that after my husband died, his computer, which he had built and customized, and which had still worked perfectly a week before his death, would not boot at all. It announced a total operating system failure. Boy is far from ignorant about things computer, despite being a history type, and he did various things but couldn't revive it, so he left it sitting there figuring he'd get it eventually, take it home, and reformat the hard drive and make it work. So it sat for several weeks, because nobody had time to mess with it. At the time that the computer flat refused to boot, he joked about the lovely homily at his Dad's funeral, when the priest said in various ways, that "He's not gone," and referenced how he loved to fix things (my husband worshipped at the Church of St. Bob Vila for decades) and said, "Okay, if you're really still here, fix your damn computer." Today he booted up the machine again to try it, and it works just fine, like nothing was ever wrong. Make of it what you will, but we're amused.


No knitting content. I'm too freaking tired. I did finish the foundation row of entrelac triangles on the market bag this morning, and so far, very good. I haven't screwed it up yet. I promise that after I get enough rows done that you can see the color repeat I will take a picture, but what's the point before that?