Sparrow-fart O'Clock in the morning

It's late. Or early, depending on your definition and lifestyle. I am still up.
Not sure why.

The big boy is having a sleepover at his grandparents.
The little boy will most likely be up at 7AM tomorrow, squirming and wanting to play and maybe trying to stick small objects in my mouth and nose.
I have had a cup of tea. I still didn't want to go to sleep.
I cleaned up a bit. I still didn't want to go to sleep.
I stretched a bit. My shoulders and back feel much better now, but I still don't want to go to sleep.
I knitted an I-Cord edge on a hoodie. Maybe I am channeling Very Hungry Caterpillar.
I am going to put myself back to bed soon - somewhere warm and dark where I can sleep for Almost Two Weeks.

One of these decades I might get to sleep in again.

Happiness is:

Happiness is:

• Two healthy gorgeous clever amazing kids, both currently asleep;
• Tour de France on TV - mmm, fit men in tight clothes....
• Company of my wonderful husband discussing tactics of said TDF;
• 2004 Hunter Valley cabernet merlot;
• Central heating and a warm blankie while the icy winter wind shakes the gum trees;
• Pondering which new spinning wheel I would most like to buy; 
• Testing a gorgeous knitting pattern on gorgeous yarn for the gorgeous Celia;
• Planning a sleep-in, till, oh 7:30AM tomorrow.

Some days I wake up and wonder how I ended up middle-aged,  with relative autonomy about what to do on any given day, a growing selection of bad habits and obnoxious opinions, a bunch of friends all of whom have substantial incomes but substantial anxiety about imminently rising interest rates, and (as my husband will regularly point out) fleece & yarn in EVERY ROOM OF THE HOUSE!