and Girlchild is going to be the worst pregnant woman ever - two weeks till Puppy is killing her, and if naming her dog is this hard, I think I will be in another country during naming the Grandchild. Somewhere without good cellular service....
Murphy was named by the woman who found him for me - his doggie godmother - and my husband. She proposed the name, he latched onto it, I liked it too, the job was done, and now I can't imagine Murphy as anybody but Murphy. He's totally a Murphy. This puppy needs to come home and let us know what he wants to be called.
I am going to bed SO early. I woke at 4 with sinuses stuffed to hell - must be the pollen/changing weather.
Knitting: (Yes, this is still at least nominally a knitting blog, though it's more about dogs and jobs and everything else most of the time) Dulaan projects continue. In the reorganizing of the stash I found a small sampling of Bartlett Wool bought on the Net during the Yarn Medication Years. Just enough for some really warm and sturdy mittens and hats. This stuff is awesome to knit, if I lived in a cold climate I'd have a jacket from it. I'm doing a roll-brim hat on size 7 needles and it's so tight it's almost like felt, and will be water resistant and warm. I'm not sure about the size, but in my rough guesstimate it would fit my head, so it should be good for an adult, and the color is a nice teal blue suitable for either gender. Mittens from this would be excellent.
I ripped the brown and teal and rust scarf. Those colors just don't work for me. I will make another scarf out of the same kind of handpainted wool, but in the roses and blues that make me happy. And color is about mood, isn't it?
Work stuff: I wish I could share the triumphs of this week but they are not for public consumption - however, I did remember why I do like my job, even this job, at times. Validation of one's skills and knowledge. Making lawyers representing major corporations change their tactics with a bitchslap of facts - Hah, you just thought you understood this case! Hah! It's a good thing. And a lot of fun. Too bad it happens, at best, once a quarter, and the rest of the time it's hand-to-hand combat with a world too Dilbert for Dilbert, in intense discussions about shit no intelligent adults should ever have to discuss unless seriously inebriated.
Oh, and the coffee is pathetically weak, there must be some official edict to cut it to save money. I'll stick to tea.