I had to make an emergency yarn run this morning because either the yarn company lied about how much yarn was in the skein or the pattern lied about how much yarn was needed for the project. According to the pattern and the yarn label, I bought more than I should have needed, but I came up way too short -- and not even in the range where it could be individual variations in knitting style. And wouldn't you know it, it's not a yarn that the craft store down the block sells, so it meant driving to the store in a nearby city. But while I was at it, I got some other supplies for the upcoming steampunk convention. Now I have to knit frantically to finish this cape in less than two weeks. When I ran out of yarn last night, I got started on a Christmas present project, so at least I got something accomplished, but the next couple of weeks are going to be a knit-a-thon.
Meanwhile, I survived the first time for my choir to sing in church. Problem Child wasn't there, which made it a little easier. They did a good job and were ridiculously cute, and fortunately, they saved all the waving at parents and calling out "Hi, Grandma!" for after they sang rather than while they were singing. They were actually reasonably focused while they were singing. Then in the later service, I got to help out with the choir my kids from the last two years are now in because one of their directors wasn't there. I helped corral them and get them in robes. And I got lots of hugs from them.
We had perfect Texas fall weather this weekend -- crisp and cool in the morning, just slightly warm and sunny in the afternoon. I spent much of the weekend outdoors, doing some wandering around a festival in my city and then visiting a nearby town for some more touristy wandering around on Saturday and then taking a really long walk around my neighborhood on Sunday. This is my favorite time of year and since I'm not on deadline, I'm going to make enjoying it a priority instead of pushing myself to stay inside and write. For the past ten years, I seem to have spent the fall holed up inside, writing. This year, I'm going to get out more.