It smells like yeast in Walkerville in Windsor and depending on the day it smells either comforting (like a fresh loaf of bread) or not. With the most extreme patience imaginable, Suzanne taught me to knit. The old ache in my wrist is coming back again, but what can I do about it and how can I avoid the pleasure of needle crafts at Christmas time? It's impossible. Now I have a hat to wear, and one that isn't fur. Suzanne spent a few minutes teaching her sister to knit last night. I woke up at an ungodly hour with her parents to find that Sarah had knit herself a little rectangle and kept a note about the ever-rising amount of stitches she had collected. I gave Sarah a big kiss on the cheek to say goodbye and I like to think I didn't even see her cringe.
Reluctantly Andrew agreed to watch a bit of Chevy Chase's Christmas Vacation with dinner, just for a bit. Never did I imagine myself wedged between Suzanne and her father watching this movie over wine, lamb sausage, and vegetable lasagna. I looked over at Andrew, usually so cautious to crack a smile, bright eyed and beaming through much of the movie. Martha was laughing wildly.
And last night as a gift for their parents the Robinson children (including the dog Darcy) went and got their photo taken, and they even let me into a few frames.
