Rearing one's missing head

At last I've emerged from Grade Swamp: 331 this time, which is a new personal record I'd be deeply sorry to break. Fortunately, first day of the Christmas holidays coincided with an 18th century party, which was exactly what I needed. Not to mention sharing a bottle of champagne with two friends I've made taking classes to learn some of the dances from the period. (I don't teach mathematics, but let me assure you three people and a bottle of champagne is a top-drawer equation.)

My twined "Marzipan" sweater (Ravelry link) has been my knit-alter ego during the past few weeks: it's on display at my local yarn shop Litet nystan. It's difficult to take pictures of it with all the reflections, but I rather like this photo anyway - and it made me smile to discover my legs in the right place.

Two dear ones of mine have been busier with their needles lately. I showed the boy how to knit a few years ago when he was six, and he could barely wait for his younger sister to come home from kindergarten so he could show her.

Teacher and student.

And look at them now, both busy in front of the television! (No, they're not my children - not biologically, that is, but I've spent so much time with them I feel they're mine too. The boy is knitting a scarf for his father.)

To each his/her own knitting.