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I finally made those coffee popsicles, and man, they’re good.  I took half a pot of French press Cafe Bustelo, combined it with a can of evaporated milk and a couple of packets of Stevia (I’m still on this Stevia kick), and filled plastic Dixie cups about 3/4 full.  A couple of hours later, when they were partially frozen, I came back and stuck spoons into them.  They were frozen through by the end of the day, and I’ve been enjoying them ever since.  I think I have a new favorite way to get my daily caffeine buzz.

In other news, I think I’m giving up on baby blankets.  My friends keep getting pregnant, and every time I say I’m going to knit a baby blanket.  Sometimes I even do, but more often, I stall out halfway through.  Pooka and Sparkboy’s firstborn is going to be two soon, and still hasn’t gotten his baby blanket, mostly because I just can’t stand the thought of knitting one more row of garter stitch.  I’m going to actually finish the blanket for Diva’s firstborn (just born last night, in fact!) but that’s only because I started knitting it last summer for Eeyore’s little girl.  There’s even more babies on the way (Pixie is expecting her second, and Hello Nurse will be giving birth any day now to her first), and there’s no way I can knit blankets for them all.  So I’ve decided to turn to socks.  Itty bitty baby socks, to be precise.  The littlest, most adorable things yet.  In fact, they may just be the cutest things I have every made.  And the lovely thing?  They go so fast!  I cast on for a pair of baby socks Sunday night, and last night (that’s less than a week!) they were done.  So exciting!  I figure at this rate I can finish half a dozen pairs pretty quickly, and be set for at least a year.  Hopefully.

In other, other news, today when I was at the store I picked up a length of clothes line, and as soon as I got home, hung it in the back yard.  I’ve been thinking about having a clothes line for a while, inspired partly by a blog post I read about small changes towards a more sustainable lifestyle, partly because I’m cheap (lower electricity bill = win), and partly by my pleasant memories of my grandmother’s clothes line.  She hung clothes out to dry all her life, and in fact didn’t even own a clothes dryer (she did have a washer) until the last few years of her life when her caregiver (me) insisted on it.  This is even more significant when you consider that she lived in one of the poshest suburbs in town, the one with the ritzy houses and carefully manicured lawns.  For me, the sight of clothes blowing on the line will always be associated with her, and with a sense that all is well in the world.  This afternoon, as I hung a load of clothes out to dry, it felt good.

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