Secret knitting! I don't know how other people do this. He's always with me, which is exactly how I want to spend my days, but it means anything I knit for him has to be done frantically, on the sly, in the car in the parking lot at Starbucks. I don't mind it, and I love to knit for him, especially when he's going to look so good in the finished garment--dang, he's handsome:
...and this is a particularly good pattern, too. This is Brownstone, by Jared at Brooklyn Tweed. If you're knitting for a man and you want something well-fitted and stylish and manly, you really can't go wrong with BT. I made it without modifications, in Brown Heather Fisherman's Wool, purchased in a last-ditch panic as they were practically locking the door behind me at the yarn shop. The holiday knitting always sneaks up on me, I'm not sure why. It's not like I don't know which day it happens every year.
My beautiful daughter and handsome son and lovely mama all made their separate ways to me here in NY, and we got out all the cameras, because I realized recently that there were literally no photos at all of the four of us--the girl, the boy, the doc and me--in existence anywhere, other than the selfie we took with somebody's phone the day we took the girl to Hogwarts in 2009, and she was making fish lips in that one, and we were all crying and soggy-faced in it. We tried a bunch of different poses, stood over here beside that thing, and over there next to that shrubbery, and smiled and it was weird, until we just went ahead and took a family selfie, and suddenly everyone became themselves. We can't be serious around here. It is not our way.
Christmas Eve was warm and beautiful, and the sky turned pink and magic around the almost-full moon.