Poor Hands

I finished my little quilt today. I decided to just see how things would go this morning, and they went better than I hoped, so I worked on it for most of six hours today and finished it. I love it and I'm going to keep it and I want to make another one.

My hands and my body ache though. My hands from making all of those stitches and poking the needle into the fingerprints, my body from sewing in a most unergonomic fashion, hunched on the couch with the quilt on my lap.

I watched a movie this evening with it spread across my lap, it's big enough to cover and it's cozy. Even the kids were impressed when I showed it to them, that made me feel good.

Nothing else was accomplished beyond sewing today, I didn't even feel the need for escape as I usually do when I'm home on a Saturday. My father is amused by my pseudo-step-domesticity. He figures I'll be a Cub Scout den mother next. I find that unlikely for a number of reasons.

I just saw the second Matrix movie and decided that Neo was basically the system reset button. Aren't I clever? It was okay, I wasn't completely thrilled or completely captivated, but I guess it had its moments.

Return of the King on Wednesday night, looking forward to that one, of course.

I should do something else, but all I feel like doing is going to sleep. That's what I get for an entire day of very low activity. I should have at least gone out for a short walk, you'd think I'd know better by now. Maybe tomorrow if we don't get much snow.