Sounds ominous, doesn't it? Birth, death, menopause, what could we be talking about here? None of these things, of course. But we have finished February break and good riddance to it. After a week of sickness and being in when we wanted to be out (or out when we wanted to be in, for some of us) and another break that ended just when we had rested up enough to start enjoying it, we are firmly on the flip-side of winter. The sky was light when I walked the dog (that will last a few more weeks, until DST kicks in at its new earlier time and hurls me back into dog-walking darkness). The cold is just a little less bitter and I feel a little bit less squeezed and compressed by winter. March is just a week away and now we know we're going to make it through to spring.
I have also reached the spot on my Slanting Gretel Tee where I get to divide for the sleeves. I have just under 50 rounds left to knit, compared to the 120 I've already been through. You can even see the little sleeve-lets getting started. They're the tiny little bits sticking out like ears:
I'm still not quite sure if I'll finish before the end of the Olympics; I know that it is theoretically possible, but life sometimes does get in the way of my knitting.
On Friday, when everyone was finally well enough to leave the house at the same time, we took the boys to see the dinosaur exhibit at the museum and science center. A few years ago, they had a room full of mechanized dinos. The moved and roared when people got close to them and they were so big they had to be brought in and taken out through the windows of the museum. I took Nate there for his birthday and we loved it. He kept sneaking back to the triceratops to see how close he could get before it started making noise. This time the display was much smaller and I think we were all a little disappointed. Still, there was a designated photo spot. They even provided an X on the floor so I knew just where to stand to catch these prize winners:
Not to be outdone by fake dinos, one of the chickens laid an Egg of Unusual Size. We dubbed it FrankenEgg and hid it in the refrigerator until we were brave enough to deal with it.
Here it is, posing with a Perfectly Normal Egg to provide a sense of scale.
With the stresses of school and work set aside for the week, our time finally came. We gathered around and did the unthinkable: we cracked the giant egg. No scary surprises inside (speculation as to the contents included predictions of dinosaurs and whole mini-chickens), just twin yolks. We scrambled them up with a few of their friends and had a very nice lunch.
Many thanks to The Girls, shown here in a gratuitous winter pose.
I think they are looking forward to spring too, although they have at least finally learned that they can walk in the snow.