So now they are almost all on the table.

When I hear myself saying things like “Boh, no licking library books!” I realize that this dog and I really are kindred spirits. I spent a semester or two cataloguing acquisitions in my college library’s dungeon-like basement, and I think the experience solidified my love of the library smell: you know, that musty, secret, layered, hidden whiff of something you just have to learn more about that hits you as you walk through the stacks. Boh clearly likes the smell of old books, too. Which is a good thing, because we’re surrounded by them.

My mom’s Multnomah shawl has entered blob stage, and I think the SWTC bamboo is knitting up beautifully. I’m a few rows from beginning the feather and fan lace, according to the pattern, but I think I might just keep increasing until it feels substantial enough — maybe until I get to the second ball of yarn.

Back to the kitchen table, once I make room for my laptop.