Reason to knit!

We got our BG&E bill yesterday, and apparently even 60F (54F at night) is too luxurious for the likes of us. Worse than the (2nd) staggering bill was the slick pamphlet advising me to keep my thermostat 'below 74F' to keep costs down. I could weep. We got through a day of no-heat-at-all without tears however, thanks to numerous cups of tea, plenty of knitting, a brisk walk, and soup for dinner. Also it was a mild day and the house stayed around 55F with yesterday's residual heat. I suppose we'll have to take refuge in the library on the really bitter days. I am very clearly not well-adapted for survival, and if civilization crumbles in my lifetime, I'm a goner. Before we got our beloved, drafty, fixer upper in this marginal (or 'up and coming if you listen to the hype) city neighborhood, we lived in a cute little stone apartment in the suburbs. We had windows on 3 sides and wood floors, and heat and hot water were included! We kept the apartment at a balmy 74F every winter and we were happy, let me tell you. Except that we had no need of warm woolies, and so my knitting, lacking the inspiration born of need, was, well, desultory. Not to mention unappreciated. I knit a cute strawberry hat and my daughter lost it between our house and the library. I knit one fluffy purple sock and abandoned it's mate halfway through the ribbing. A scarf got left on a snowman until the snow melted, and by then looked so sodden and dreary that nobody felt like picking it up. I began a seamless raglan and lost interest halfway through the sleeve decreases. Eventually the carpet beetles got that one, as well as lots of beautiful wool yarn that I would actually appreciate now. So, my consolation for blue lips and frozen fingertips is that the children wear their handknits often enough to require the purchase and frequent use of Eucalan and a plastic laundry tub. My son wears his little orange hat everywhere, all the time, and even though he tends to leave it places, he always gets it back because everyone in the neighborhood knows it's his. My daughter, who rarely nags, has been nagging me to cast on for her hat, and has already decided that her next sweater will be red. Robin wants a green one, with cables no less, and a matching hat. But the best reason not to regret the free heat is that I now have very good reason to knit longies from the Knitter's Almanac. The idea of wool leggings for babies charmed me from the moment I read the book, but of course I had no reason to knit them for Wren and Robin. Poor little Finch will have to rough it with the rest of us, and will need a good supply of longies, not to mention a few sweaters and hats for next winter. He'll be the picture of contentment, snuggled in wool from head to toe asleep in his cradle. When he's not shrieking, pooping, nursing, or being toted about like a tyrant.


Dinner tonight: Italian bean and pasta soup