I'm feeling a lot better. Most likely because I've done nothing but lay about and get well for three days. Seriously, that's the cure for the common cold. If I could bottle and sell "laying about like a sloth" I'd be a millionaire.
But since I can't, I'll just pass the word along. Seriously, it works. Well, that and preventative doses of Robitussin before bed.
Anyway, while I was laying about today I decided to work on the baby hoodie I started crocheting a few weeks ago. It's in the loveliest, softest shade of blue - almost like a gentle dove gray, only bluer (if that makes any sense at all). The pieces (front and back and about a quarter of one arm) are so delicate and pretty. To little old unbiased me, anyway.
And I haven't a clue who I'm making it for.
It sort of dawned on me today, this fact. I started it because I liked the pattern and wanted to give it a try. I bought the blue yarn because I liked it. Only now I don't know who it's for. It doesn't really matter, except that for some reason it just does.
I could throw it up on my plumpkinheads.com website, but for some reason it feels like I'm making it for someone. Only I'm not. I'm strangely attached to it, but I don't need it. I'm not pregnant. I have no idea if I'll ever be pregnant again.
Part of me wants to tuck it away in my cedar chest just "in case". The other part of me wants to give it away to someone who I can see wearing it. Maybe to someone who I can hold while they're wearing it.
It's just that kind of baby sweater for some reason.
So we'll see. I'll finish it up and decide later. No particular rush.
But if a little blue hoodie should find its way to you (whoever you are), please know it was crocheted with a lot of love.