Plans of mice and women, gangin' agley

I'm not exactly Burns' mouse caught in the plowing, more the toad beneath the harrow. 

Anyway, last evening I embarked on the  lace panel for the second sock. And several hours later after many tries and retries, I had found I was in no emotional state to knit lace. Not the day.

As you see, the twizzled up yarn is my witness. So, on the grounds that today is another day, here we go again.

Hope springs eternal, third quotation in there already. It's what my mind does under stress. Three dead white males occupying my mental real estate.

Then I thought, well, I'll make soup. I'm pretty sure I can do that.

Famous last words, I thought, as the knife blade skidded off the squash and into my finger. There followed an interval of trying to assemble one-handed the kit to wrap it up.

And I remembered I have finger cots, latex gizmos you unroll down your finger, which are strongly reminiscent of another safety item applied likewise, though not on your finger. I was thinking maybe I should donate them to a republican pol of my choice.. would be a good fit..

Anyway, I did get the soup on the stove, the trimmings into the stock bag, the squash seeds tossed out for the two baby groundhogs I saw yesterday, and soup simmering nicely, rice to be added at the end, it's precooked, another experiment. The bandage might get in the way of knitting, though. We'll see.

Here's the result

Earlier I had been thinking of these unruly old begonias, and thinking about cutting them back a lot. 

One is already taller than me again, after savage pruning last year. The top branches can start to root in water, and the potted remains will burst out again. I just have to cut it them. Yes.

One of those small tasks that get put off and put off.  You'll notice there's no picture of after the cutting.

Our weary hearts might be helped at this point by Elliott's posting, and Mary Oliver.

All purpose comfort. Have the best day you can manage, everyone. There might be a bit of light in there.