Things are just plain different here. Different weather, different scenery, different people, different pace. Part of it is, I'm sure is due to the fact that there are soooo many retirees living down here. Or at least there are part of the time. Top that with this area seems to be a vacation hotspot for people from all over the globe, ( Lake County, IL?...not so much a vaca hot spot).
Then there is the weather. Seriously, I really thought I was going to expire from the heat and humidity. Dear ol' Dad seems to like the heat and humidity (really?) 85 is comfortable for him. Sometimes we compromise at 82 but 79 is down right cold!! Keep in mind that temp is inside the house...high 90's and up outside
No - really!!!
So I have become really good friends with my ceiling fan- yah baby!
People here also live like they are on vacation. I mean the real world people- those of us that still have to work for a living. That is what one of the vendors at work told me, she and her boyfriend moved here 7 years ago and they live like they are on vacation. Hmmm, now there is a concept. So not like Chicago.
Surreal... that is what time is here in Florida. Sometimes, most times, I don't even notice the passage of time, unless I am at work in which case it drags ( that part hasn't changed). So friends and family- when you don't hear from me it's not that I am ignoring you, I just don't notice it has been 3 flipping' weeks since I talked to anyone.
When I first got here I had no Internet- (Dad was still on dial up) thank goodness for all those audio books on my laptop!!! I was Facebooking from my phone for petes sake!
Ceiling fan+audio book+ icepack= the zone!
Did I mention it is too hot to knit? Just checking.
I did manage to unearth one of my UFO's that I thought would not hurt me if I worked on it. Wavy Feathers Wimple, because I am so going to need that this winter! Anyway- the trouble with packing things away, no matter how organized you think you are, something always gets misplaced, like my instructions!
No biggie- they are online, but while I was counting back the rows to figure out my place, I notice- oh horrors...a hole the size of my butt- ok maybe it wasn't that big, but there was a hole about half way down the piece. No it wasn't a fubarred stitch, it was a broken stitch. So I now have ripped out almost the whole darn wimple and started over. See hole below.
Remember what it used to look like?? This is going to be one of those projects that takes years I fear... oh wait- I believe it already has!
Why do you suppose spell check thinks fubarr is not a word- WTH!