This is crazy. I just don't feel like knitting this week. I've got some Friendship Bread in the oven, and it smells lovely. Andrew and I received our starter from a friend at church. I'm not sure who I'm going to give the new bags of starter to. Others in our choir have already received starters. My mother-in-law and my father have diabetes, and my mother has been watching what she eats. I wonder if my sister would like one. Rachel, do you want one, too?
I love that Rose is at the age where she's starting to have conversations. It's so funny to have an exchange with her. It's almost unreal that this fluent little girl was my crying, cooing baby. She's got two little turns of phrase that crack me up. One is "What is that was?" which, translated, is "What was that?" She also asks, "What is that my?" or "What is that your?" It's like her brain knows that to ask a question, you rearrange the words of a statement and replace the item in question with "what" or another word (That is a cat/What is that?). But if there's a possessive pronoun, she leaves in all the words from the statement. So instead of "That is my crib/What is that?" it's "That is my crib/What is that my?" I know she'll grow out of it soon. In the meantime, I think it's so cute.