Maddie is tucked into the chair next to me. Her body when she's on her side is just the right height for me to use her as an armrest, which makes typing more comfortable for me. Despite the fact that she puked up her entire dinner while I was knitting with my girlie Cae, (yup, she's a pukey dog. Maybe the fact that she scarfs her food after practically hyperventilating from excitement about getting it has something to do with it) she (Maddie, just for pronoun clarity) is very stinky. I'll be blunt. She's farting up a storm. But I love her, so I won't make her get off the chair. And she does make a great armrest.
As the excitement for Rhinebeck grows throughout Blogland, I've learned (fiber festival newbie that I am) that proper form is to wear something one has knit to Rhinebeck. Since my socks probably wouldn't impress anyone (ok, I'm not out to impress, but who would notice them unless I keep doing high kicks?), I'm going to finish my very pink Clapotis. I'm not as crazy about the yarn as when I bought it last year, but maybe once I'm done and wearing it with a black turtleneck I'll like the yarn once more. I can tell you one thing: I love dropping stitches when I'm meant to. It's rocking my world right now.
I had a good teaching day today. It was one of those days when my lesson got even better because of what started as my giving background about Aristotle as I defined ethos, pathos, and logos (are you having Freshmen English nightmares? I may teach dull stuff, but I'm passionate about it. And I wear cute shoes.) turned into a way to better explain the terms. I'm not being as clear as I could, but my point is that something unplanned turned into that really special light in my students' eyes. If you're a teacher, you know what I mean.