I carry my knitting bag with me everywhere. I suppose it makes me feel better about the fact that I never really pull anything out of it to work on. I forced myself (after a wee drink of something fruity and refreshing, and alcoholic) to work on the Snoopy baby quilt. I was making progress, until I realized I had forgotten to put in a piece, and had cut the sashing too short. I immediately realized that it was time to quit, but still, no knitting. Instead I pored over paint chips. There was no danger in that.
This is spring break week here, so I kept some of the grandsons overnight, and we frolicked in the park and the botanical gardens. I say frolicked, but it was more like running, yelling and sweating. The visit ended with two of them arguing loudly in the backseat about exactly how Darth Vader dies. We're still not sure.
The red knitting bag figures prominently in the foreground. It came in handy for car keys and bottled water.