Or at least a St. Bernard dog carrying a small cask of brandy.
Bravely ignoring the forecasts for the most bone chilling weather in years, DH and I headed north (yes, NORTH) for a weekend of cross country skiing with friends. Our view from the cabin.
Kindly refrain from pointing out that if we wanted to escape wind chill factors, it might be a good idea to head south of the mason dixon line. (Although, as I write, Atlanta, Georgia is 35 degrees and Chattanooga, Tennessee is a balmy 38 degrees.)
The temperature Sunday morning was -28 degrees with a wind chill of -40. That's negative 33 for you celsius folks. This is the kind of cold where your contact lenses turn into little ice packs for your eyes - which might be pleasant in the event of a hangover but not so much when loading gear into the car. This is the kind of cold in which it almost hurts to breath. The sensation of your lungs freezing as you inhale does make you question living in a climate which makes several serious attempts to kill you (to paraphrase Garrison Keillor). Some cars started, some didn't. Ours started, thankfully. And we arrived home to a veritable heat wave.
Knitting was on the weekend agenda - especially as skiing was not due to a knee injury. I baked cookies while the others skiied on Saturday. Over the weekend I finished a scarf (picture not taken yet), started another, and kept plugging away on the second Estonian Lullaby baby blanket.
But I have other finished projects with which to amaze and astound you (keeping in mind that the amazing and astonishing aspect is not so much the projects or yarn, but that anything gets finished at the Stash Haus).
First up - Falling Water Lace Scarf - unblocked. Yarn - unknown soft wool in a fingering weight.
Next, we have a Spiral Rib Hat by Ann Norling made out of Plymouth Encore Colors.
More snow and frigid temperatures in our forecast.
Now where did I put the brandy?
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