I almost tried to name Girlfriend Wren. And then it was going to be Lily. And then, Willow. HWWV absolutely put the kabosh on those so we settled for something simpler. Her big sister, now gone, was Eden and he agreed to that. So, why not Wren, Lily or Willow?
I feel for that boy, Blanket, the one whose father is Michael Jackson. I can see someone naming their kid all sorts of things, but Blanket? If you open the door to Blanket, then you might want to try Fishbone, Knob, Multiply, or worse: Elevator. I happen to like LaFawnduh, or whatever her name is on that movie, Napolean Dynamite, because the actress is just so sparkly and friendly. If she smiled at me the way she smiles at Kip in the movie, I'd want to run away with her, too.
We named Miss Fitz on a whim and now she has an alter ego. Call us nice because we are. We realized that the folks might get the wrong idea. You know, that she's somehow a misift. (But aren't we all?) Anyway, she has a heck of a lot more spunk than someone named "Fitz."
Moving onto knitting. I have been working on a few things--mostly homemade bias tape for what reason, I don't know, and plugging along, thinking of a few patterns for the fall/winter season. I have been smitten with bonnets--I mean, who wouldn't be? Ha!--Still; I've been looking at them, the few that are out there, and designed one sized for young and old. Girlfriend wore hers out today in spite of the warmer weather. We will have a proper shoot when the time is right and after I've blocked this one and another that I did in "grellow." I'm happy to say that this is a quick knit and something you can whip up before the holidays.
Not to mention, it is practically seamless and will hide major roots.
P.S. I have a friend with the last name, Ball. Every year we receive a Christmas card that says: "Happy Holidays from the Balls."
Oh, and yeah, I have to tell you something really, really funny. I got a call from my dad the other day (he reads the blog) and he said, "So you named your new dog Miss Fitz?" and I said, "Yeah." And he said, "So...you remember me telling you about Mrs. Fitz, the one who lived down the street when I grew up?"
"No, dad, I don't."
"Oh. For some reason, I thought that you got the idea for her name from my stories about Mrs. Fitz down the street in Omaha."
"Nope. It just came to us, dad."
"Oh. It's just that she'd lay in a hammock in her front yard and fart all day; that's all. Thought you remembered the story."