It's March 1st. I woke up this morning full of resolve to Get Things Done in the month of March - get the new cabinets in, finish backyard cleanup, get Amiable Rednecks to lay sod and a new patio. Yep, I was On Fire. I had a schedule. I planned to take off Fridays all this month and dedicate these three-day weekends to frenzied home improvements. This lasted until noon-ish, when Boss reported that we are summoned to the Mothership for fraternization, fellowship and Florida Marlins. (I'd throw in eating, drinking and shopping, but it'd screw up the alliteration I had going there.) So I'll be gone half the weekend again, because I'm not getting up at the crack of dawn to drive down, drinking beer in the hot sun in the afternoon and then getting in the car and driving three hours to get home. I'll just have to force myself to stay over and come home on Saturday, after a bit o' shopping, maybe. So Weekend One of the Great Finish the House Crunch exploded on the launch pad. The last weekend of the month is booked for another Mothership social event, and I think that somewhere in between Boss is having a party. Okay, I know when to throw in the towel - March is already toast. April 30, that's the new target date. Sheesh.

Proof, if you need it, that Life Imitates Knitting, at least for me. I can make all the earnest, sincere "I will have this project done by..." deadlines I want, but life gets in the way every damn time. And you know, this is okay - life should get in the way. If I ever get to the point where I pass up the chance to have fun with my friends to finish a sweater, I want somebody to Baker Act me. Knitting is great, knitting is fun, I love to knit, it's one of my favorite pastimes, but it's not Life to me, and I don't want it to be. If it takes me a year and a day to finish a sweater, so be it.

Speaking of finishing sweaters, here's proof that Bardot isn't just a figment of my imagination: