The State Fair Approacheth

. . . and here's me with nothing to enter. I've been giving away or wearing things as I knit them. Hmmm - next year, plan this better. Oh well, at least I can mat up a couple of poems and enter those.

Knit-wise, I have started another orphan sweater - this one of mottley pink handspun wool. And I am carrying the wandering mitten around for a few stitches here and there. The self-heating stitch, a slip-stitch, does wonderful things with the hand-painted yarn. I doubt it will be a pair in time for the "Bitchin Mittens" but you never know. I found a nice cigar tin to carry the wooden double-points in, which makes me very happy (The cuff and thumb are knit on size 1s, the whole hand part is knit on size 5s.)

I'm taking a roll of film to the store today, so in a couple of days, I can start scanning in a few more new photos. In the meantime, lessee if I can pull up the fingerless gloves.

Ahhhh batcrap! Snellfrocky! Rastlefratz! I lay hands upon this accursed computer and cast out the gremlins! Beggone you imps of impediment! Betake yourselves to the neighbor's boombox and never enter my tower nor keyboard, my internet nor upload programs again. In the name of Buckminster Fuller I command you!

Well, that was a futile rant. I must not be inside the golden hour. I'll figure this out. Really I will. Even a blind rat finds the cheese eventually.