We spent most of the twelve days in cozy Combermere...
|the chicken house, where dad's beloved hens are warm and spoiled....and still laying.|
...which was delicious and wonderful. Everyone was sick with the flu, but Christmas is a good time for napping by the fire, sipping tea, and finishing handmade Christmas presents.
I made Matthias some little pants out of an old felted wool sweater. He looks like a little Scandinavian elf...
...and elf-like, he is nearly impossible to capture on camera. There was just enough sweater left over to make some leggings for Rafe. They protect him against drafts and the wool is so warm and cozy.
Just in time for the deep cold.
I'm knitting Will's other sock—my first pair! I don't know if I can adequately express the feeling of positive glory when I rounded that first heel. I can only compare it to Columbus' first sighting of land, or whats-his-name who was silent on a peak of Darien. The glory. The socks are beauties, but dang, even Will will have to wear them over his other socks. They are Simply Enormous.
Will studied and wrote papers all holidays, but not without getting in touch with his inner bananagram-champion. My sister and he did a Latin version of bananagrams, if you can imagine. I sat out and pretended to nurse the baby. My dad was awarded the prize for his enormous and impressive lies about word definitions.
Back home now, we are coddling the sickies, having another cookie, and savoring these slow days of Christmas.