Announcements, announcements, announcements...

Oh, aren't they horrid, just awful I tell ya. Can you tell just how off the sizes are? Yes literally inches. And let's not discuss the gauge. It's as if I changed needles it's sooo off on the second one. But these have come back into my hot little hands, after sitting around since the Christmas Knit exchange the Bonnie Beer Bitches and I had. I nearly groveled to the poor recipient when I got them back. Oh are you just now noticing my signature, the ends not being woven in, I think I need to direly work on that fact. But honestly after making 10 pairs of these things in less than 2 months, I was pooed. And I admit, they were the last desperate pair.

So I'll actually be knitting soon, once I get over my initial shock from the weekend.

Speaking of the weekend, I had planned to knit, and knit, and knit. But as fate would have it I knit nil. No, it wasn't as if I had forgotten my knitting to go down to the races at Willow Springs. Not one bit. The fact of the matter, and the title of the post just stems from the Boy. Again, this is where I blame the boy again. But I suppose instead this time he's no longer the boy.
The reason you ask, well.......

still there? Here it is...

We eloped!!!!!!!

Ok really I was kidnapped, made to think I was going to the vintage motorcycle races, and once we were merging onto the freeway,

He says to me: I love you. We're not going to Willow Springs.

Me: Thank goodness. I thought as much, well at least I hoped we weren't.

He: We're eloping.

Me: dead silence that makes the boy nervous as we're nearly merging into a big rig. Finally he turns to look at me. Evidently I was about five shades of tickled pink, one of which must have been purple, because he keeps saying I was just so.

So I believe I giggled. Then full out laughed, and well let's just say I have yet to really stop grinning.

Through all the excitement the story spilled from his lips, as to how his plans over the last week were nearly foiled by so many different elements. Firstly my Greek buddy from Davis calling, where he and I made plans to go see the Red Elvis' play in the city on Sat. and he and his lady friend staying with us in our house. Supposedly the boy was jumping up and down mad that I was making those plans. But he trudged on and we still headed out to the "races" and I called the friend back, ate crow, and left a key under the mat. There were other instances, like me trying my best to not go, any time I could. But it happened. We got married.

I still have a hard time believing he finally asked, not only asked, but rather demanded. I do love him so, and now he is no longer the Boy, but no I believe Husbeast will be appropriate. It's that ginormous winter beard he boasts, and the big burly biker demeanor.

So it seems I am in the opposite boat as many of the other knit bloggers out there that are now preparing for their weddings. I now have to plan a reception. And I must insist that eloping (a 3rd generation fact of the husbeasts family, now!), is the best thing we ever have done. I would never want to be bothered with the head aches and hassles of a big wedding. And alllll that planning, oh no thanks. I won't miss that, nor the tens of thousands of dollars that could be put to such a better use, like a down payment on a house. But I'm stoked, don't get me wrong. I've just been witness to the hell it is to plan your own wedding, and I'm not that kinda gal.

Did I mention, I'm a bride!!!! eheeeeeehhee

No one knew. Well, his new boss caught him looking at rings on line, so he knew. But No One Knew. Oh, I lament on how sweet he really is. (well at least right now I do. But it's something to keep in mind. That feeling of something new.)

There it is. Saturday April 28, 2007 @ 2:22pm I was married to the love of my life, Graeme, in Carson City, Nevada, by the justice of the peace, at the same courthouse his mum and dad were married at nearly 33 years ago. I could only hope for such a long lived relationship with my husbeast.

Now comes the really hard part, how/where/when do we have this reception?