So at long last the winter temperatures have arrived. Today it crossed over from cold into Damn Cold, and so I think to myself, you know, in Fredricton it's going to be -21 C tonight. In Quebec City? -25. Which really should put that -18 C we're supposed to get overnight into perspective. And besides, even though it's cold, it's not keeping us from some pretty sunsets, right?
Then there's the thesis which, as I go through and re-write what I printed off last term, makes me wonder if I'll do it well. No matter how well I write, how much will I have missed, how many books won't I have referenced, how many sources won't I have cited? And then as I go and pull out an old essay from 4 years ago to use for material I realize, as I'm re-writing that, just how much I've improved.
And then we have this sad, sad specimen of two weeks' worth of knitting:
That's a roll-brim toque (made to fit using the Yarn Harlot's recipe in Knitting Rules!), and one and 1/30th of a glove. The sad part is, I did most of the rest of the first glove months ago: it was re-doing the fingertips that took me three nights to fix. Half a thumb in one night, from me, who managed to knit a pair of size-13 men's socks in two weeks? I ask you. I don't think there's a relative coordinate system out there to make that into a good accomplishment.
But as the -15 C + wind chill hit me today I was eternally grateful for the Gryffindor House scarf I made last year, double thickness in Elann Highland Wool:
So relative to, say -15 C without the cozy knitting around my neck? Definitely something I can get behind.