It's a quirk of my biology that when I am sick with cold/flu/sore throat, I cannot drink milk. It tastes really, really funny, even on cereal. It's such a truth that if there's ever a question about whether I'm actually getting sick, all I have to do is take a sip or two. Milk as diagnostic tool. Today, I've been able to drink milk for the first time in five days. Therefore, this hateful cold is leaving me. Yesterday it felt like I was getting sicker and never going to get better, but right now, there's a tall glass of milk on the coffee table, within arm's reach.
Feeling so crummy all week, there hasn't been much knitting going on. There's been lots of sneezing and sleeping and nose-blowing and coughing and DVD-watching, though. I unravelled my Peace Fleece vest, as it just wasn't going well. Looking through Ravelry this afternoon, I found a new pattern to try the yarn on:
Now, it's possible that this won't make me happy, either, but it's worth a whirl. If I have to tink again, the yarn can always be used for a nice big felted bag.