Knitting, and who am I and where is my brain?

Friday, early evening, I put our little basil plant in the bathroom sink for watering. I opened the faucet, letting the water run at a slow pace, just a smidge greater than a trickle. I proceeded to vacuum the house and go on with my life. Approximately six hours later my husband goes to the bathroom before heading up to bed and finds something like this:

Oh yes I let the water run for OVER.SIX.HOURS. And just in case I thought that was a simple oversight, I added a coup de grace the following evening by putting the ice cream back into the fridge, rather than it's customary haunt, the freezer.

Where is my brain?

Oddly enough, when I awoke this morning it was wholly preoccupied in composing poetry of unparalled genius, whereas last night it was trying to learn how to take photos of me wearing my Summer Set Cardigan. These shots make me look 30 lbs. lighter. It's miraculous.



The above are pictures of the Summer Set Cardigan at this stage:


Last night I finished up what must now be considered a dry run of a short sleeve since I ripped it out this morning while sitting in front of the a/c waiting for my body temp to tumble from a post-shower high of 1 gazillian and a half degrees.

The way I knit up the sleeve required me to purl in the round, rather than knit, and since my purling is much tighter than my knitting, a pronounced dent in the work occurred. Big d'oh: I should have taken a picture before I ripped it out. Hmph.