300th

So - hey! This is my 300th post (on this blog). Lots of people do contests or polls or other special things for the 100s, but, so far I haven't. It just seemed that it'd be worth mentioning, I guess, even if I'm too lazy to really do something about it.
In very important news, the Honeybee Stole was unanimously approved and will be cast on very soon, maybe even tonight. I'd planned to cast it on last night, since it was Blackout Night, and discovered that I don't have the right size of circular needles, or anything quite long enough to accommodate all of its lovely stitches. Also, I'm not-so-good with the provisional cast-on and didn't feel like attempting it by candle light! So, perhaps today? We shall see.
Last night saw the return of Blackout Night, as I mentioned, and it was lovely. Andrew happened to be away at a friend's house, so we were operating with a skeleton crew. The kids are getting less and less enchanted with the idea of an entire evening sans light bulbs and Nintendo, but I really do plan to stick to my guns on this.
We had chips and salsa, some bean dip (which the DH heated just seconds before Lights Out because, well, cold beans? Gross.) and olives, finished off with lovely blackberries for dessert. As we finished dinner, we made our way to the living room, which was still bright enough to make out faces, but dimming quickly. There was some silence and general digesting-of-dinner, until a round of Go Fish was suggested by the wee one. After a couple of games, the rain started pouring down and we absolutely had to retire to the porch. It's not screened, though, so mosquitoes are a bit of a problem. I suddenly recalled a lone mosquito coil that was languishing somewhere on our grounds and it was happily employed for the next couple of hours.

As was Emma's imagination. Rain does that to some of us girls - it helps us to imagine.



I understand, baby girl. I really do.
When the rain was spent, we left Daddy on the porch with a book, sprawled out on the floor and took up Emma's latch hook rug for a bit. She's had it since last fall and hasn't done much, I have to say. It involves an awful lot of sitting still and focusing. And some of us just don't focus well. But we sat quietly in the flickering light, taking turns threading the yarn on the hook and listening to the gentle ticking of our clock and the contented beak-grinding of our birds and the drip-drip-drip of rain.
Once Emma headed to bed, we grown-ups read for what seemed to be a long time. It always feels so much later than it actually is when you're surrounded by silence. Which is a good thing when you are hoping to stretch out the peace of such an evening for as long as possible.

DAILY BLISS: a good hair day and a little bit of chocolate