Old Man Winter certainly has a few tricks up his sleeve (or wherever he keeps them) because it's colder than a witches you-know-what out there. I have been checking the windows and there is no condensation or water on the sills, so I guess that was money well spent.
I am up early as Mr. Clawed was whirring in my face. Not exactly a meow, but a sound he makes in his throat. He even wakes himself up doing it, and usually I find it cute and charming. FC discovered a cache of mousies under the tv room sofa, and Howard was doing his war cry with one in his mouth in the pitch dark. I was looking for my 5th DPN under there, which was behind my ear. We also found a Glossette raisin.
My Whitby Gansey is done. This is a proud moment in a knitters life. The last (and only) other gansey I have completed, Eriskay, was done in 1999, according to my Ravelry notebook. It was, and is, a completely patterned and challenging project as the chest pattern is all different and a bit of a pain to keep track of. Also done on 3mm needles, in Navy.
In comparison, this one was a walk in the park. The pattern was easy to memorize and I really enjoyed working with the yarn, although I will say that in comparison, I prefer the Frangipani over the Wendy Guernsey, as there were knots and quite a bit of chaff in it. Odd. But the Atlantic blue is a nice colour and I used 8 balls, so just shy of 2000 yds.
This would definitely be classed as a First-world problem.