We're at Jeff's parents' house this weekend, attending some family get-togethers. I'm really enjoying myself, and the dogs seem to be having a good time, too. We've gotten in some good walks, and the north Texas springtime seems to agree with them. I got a shot of Pona in some bluebonnets (because that's some sort of state law enforced in late March through early April) and in it he seems almost blissful. You can thank me for cropping out some of his anatomy in the comments, if you wish. Thank goodness for a wet winter, Lady Bird Johnson, and Lupinus texensis.
I've made some progress on the Hillhead Slipover, but not much. The body of the sweater is knit on a 28-round repeat, and I've managed about 18 this week -- enough to start seeing the pattern develop. I've already started celebrating when I don't have to change colors, and cursing when I have to change both. But I am weaving the new colors in and the old colors out as I go, which will save me some grief at the end. It slows me down, but I suppose it's worth it. Plus, I suspect it builds character or something.
Yesterday, we went to the Kimbell Art Museum in Fort Worth to see The Age of Impressionism: Great French Paintings From the Clark. I found what looks like a list of all the works from the exhibit at the Kimbell on the Clark Museum's website, if you care to take a gander.
Jeff brought this one to my attention. It's The Shepherdess; Plains of Barbizon by Jean-François Millet (1814-1875), painted around 1862. While her big old Bouvier des Flandres is keeping it's eye on the wool-on-the-hoof, the shepherdess knits on a sock. Where can I apply for this shepherdess gig? On second thought, I probably shouldn't bother. Looking at Millet's oeuvre, I'm pretty sure all the sock-knitting shepherdess positions have been filled.