knitting in the spring sunshine

Don't you just hate it when you take out the garbage at oh-dark-thirty, and the neighbor's dog has left you a present disguised as a pile of leaves, and you step square into it while wearing your sneakers? If it had been a pair of falt-soled girly shoes, I could have cleaned it off. But sneakers have serious tread, and will now smell like dog poop for a month. Yuk!

Here is the blueboo sweater taking a little sunbath. We still need some blocking, but progress is happening. I've made the sleeves short since I figure the kids will be playing hard, and this keeps the cuffs from getting dirty and worn.

Willow asked if the tulips were up. So far, all I have of tulips is leaves. As for that white stuff, it's the stuff that you are supposed to shred, not just throw away. So what do you do with the shreds afterwards? Take it from me - do NOT use them as mulch. They are far better suited to paper mache. In fact, over the course of the winter, they tried to form paper mache all on their own. Spring bulbs, being the fighters that they are, hammered their way up through it, but the violets are getting pretty discouraged.

Here's the sweater again, still lolling around, catching rays. It's entirely too cold for people to go out without a sweater, but just fine for a sweater to go out without a people.

This is one of those days when there is so much to do, all of it non-essential, that I don't know where to begin. So of course I started by catching up on blog-reading. What an un-alloyed delight it is to visit all my friends and share their latest news!

And thanks so much for the magic cures. I am so fond of hot toddies that I can manufacture a sore throat if I feel the need for something hot and sweet and alcoholic. The addition of butter to a toddy - yes, this is a good thing! Oh, and Coke syrup! I didn't know you could still buy that. It saved my life on a long trip once when I was a tyke. I couldn't hold anything down till the hotel maid suggested Coke syrup. They fed me spoonfuls, and I perked right up! Of course, then I got out and about, and the mosquitoes went for my sweet tender skin. I scratched till I was bloody, then got infections that have left me scars till this very day. Oh, I must have been just a treasure at that age! And I was a picky eater, too. It's a wonder they didn't just leave me out for the coyotes. I'm sure my older brothers would have supported that plan. They love me now, though. I mean, who could resist so much charm and talent?


I will close with a final cute kitty photo. Ben still enjoys chasing his tail and being too adorable for words. Peek-a-boo!

I've been puny

Food poisoning Monday - just a touch. I made it through the testing session at the jail, but that two hour commute home was a trial. Had to stop and hurl twice, BUT didn't get any on myself or the car. The skills we learn in college return when we need them! Got home and had the magic food for a sick tummy - milk toast. The right way to make milk toast is to make two pieces of taost, spread with butter, sprinkle with sugar and cinnamon, put in a bowl, then pour about a cup of hot milk over it all and eat it with a spoon. It tells my tummy that everything is OK now. It's magic from childhood. Do you have magic cures? My niece believes in Vicks Vaporrub and red flannel on the throst for a cold. Dh makes a chicken soup that would cause the dead to rise and walk if you could get them to eat it after a bout of the flu. I have a friend that swears by going to bed in wet socks to fend off a cold. What magic cures do you use?

Tuesday, after twelve hours of sleep, I woke about four pound lighter, a bit light-headed from dehydration, and feeling SO much better!! Isn't it wonderful how good you feel after you have felt really crappy? I made it in to work and proctored GED tests for civilians, which meant lots of knitting time. The latest orphan sweater is one sleeve and a blocking away from completion. That's the grey and blueboo striped one.

Today, again I proctored GED in the jail, which means they don't let me play with pointy sticks. However, I was able to organize my week and then some. Knitting will be happening on March the 8th. It's also a party to celebrate my birthday, so you are all invited! (my birthday is 3/4/50) The theme is Country Casual. I'm serving brownies and oatmeal-raisin cookies and cupcakes and savory biscuit bites (recipe to follow) And fruit of some kind. Any suggestions? The table will be set with a variety of placemats, miscellaneous dishes, and mugs - all dishwasher safe.(the good china gets the hand-wash treatment)

Later today, I proctored pesticide tests for one of the horticulture classes. (you can lead a whore to culture but you can't make her think.) This means I had fifteen minutes of preparation, twenty minutes of fairly frantic activity getting everyone started, and then an hour and fourty minutes of good knitting time. About halfway through the test I spoke into the silence and said, "This would be a good time to make sure your question number and answer number correspond. It's easy to get off by one or two as you go along." And from the back of the room, someone hissed, "Oh, shit!" I love my job!!

It was a warm. lovely day. I came home to find that, Oh joy!, the first daffodil has bloomed!

Fly, well-padded in his winter overcoat, is enjoying the mildness. Isn't this just a Prosperous cat?

The magnolia buds are beginning to swell. Ah spring! The frogs are playing huggy bumpbump in the ponds. And the young people on campus are shedding clothes as fast as they can!

More fun with color

The body and bands of the sweater are done. Now, it's just sleeves, buttons, and if there's enough yarn, pockets. I'm pleased with the way it's turning out. So far.

DH and I went to the big Home and Garden Show - thousands of square feet - three different buildings. I bought a daylily corm and two oriental lily bulbs. We walked and looked and considered things. In 12 years, DH wants to retire. Already, he's considering things to do. So we talked to the Red Cross about volunteer opportunities. After we get the new windows paid off, we are thinking about replacing the garage door, so we started looking at garage doors and their opening systems. Nothing really exciting, but, it beats driving to Boise with a vanload of cub scouts. And then on the way home, we had to detour due to road constructions and look what we found!

Another bright house! Purple with yellow trim and plum accents. Click to enlarge. Wonder what colors their garden flowers are? And check out the house behind it. Barn red with lime green trim. A very artistic neighborhood!

fun at the pond

I am teaching my dear friend Dennis how to knit. We meet on Friday mornings at Sully's for wonderful food, truely superlative company, and a session of, "Through the door, around the back, through the window, and off jumps Jack!" He is persistent and therefore improving rapidly. I am trying to persuade him to join our next knitting group, or if not that, then the one after. He gets along with women better than any man I've ever known. At parties, Dennis used to wind up in the kitchen with the women, taklking politics and recipes, and I wound up in the livingroom with the guys telling dirty jokes. He would add a lot to our knit-alongs.

After we parted, I took myself down to the local wetlands. (What, you don't have a neighborhood wetland? Quelle bummer! Everyone oughta have a nearby swamp and duckerie.) At first, the only creature brave enough to approach me was a stolid little mallard hen.

When I began sharing a stale biscuit with her, the freeloading boyfriend showed up.

And then the big kids came around. A couple of Canadian Geese. By then, my stale biscuit was gone, and they became quite incensed, yelling and scolding me for wasting good food on the small fry. Pretty soon, another couple of Geese came around, and the two males spent a bit of time hissing and making snakey necks at one another. Then with raised wings and out thrust heads, they rushed at one another and tumbled into the pond, buffetting and biting. The females followed frantically honking and fluttering, and then it was over and the couples swam in different directions with many insulting tail twitches and a great deal of loud invective.

After they left, a nutria waddled out of the pond to see if there were any crumbs left. He was quite fearless and about the size of a very large cat - maybe 20 pounds or so. Nutria are a South American water rat, imported by someone with a notion of farming them for their pelts. Then the big fur boycot hit, so the idjit just realeased them into the wild. They quite like it here and do any ammount of damage to the riparian zones.

He obligingly showed me his big orange teeth. All the better to eat saplings with, my dear.

Didja see the moon?

See, what happened last night, is that Australia sashayed right between the moon and the sun, and all of us on the dark side of the earth got to watch the shadow slowly embraceing, then releasing our big bright neighbor. I've been watching ballroom dance championships on TV, and this looked like a sustained rhumba move. Slow and sexy. And wonder of wonders, it was clear here in the valley, and we were able to watch the whole thing!! Wowser!! I'm sure other people got awesome photos. My little point and shoot just doesn't have the chops for celestial phenomena.

The BlueMoon BlueBoo sweater is using up that gray Cascade a lot faster than I expected, so I toddled off to the LYS today to get some more, and because some airhead was blocking the driveway while she chatted on her cell phone and rummaged in her purse, I wound up taking the back route out of the parking lot. Isn't it wonderful when something annoying turns out good? I drove home on different streets and found this house. I know there are homeowner's associations that would never consent to these colors, let alone permit them to be so flagrantly combined. And wouldn't that just be a crying shame? This is a song of joy in the neighborhood. Yay for yellow houses!!

Time to start getting your greens

Green,green grass and some pale green yarn. Fresh! And temperatures in the fifties! Woohoo! It's much too early to put away the wool sweaters, but sorting the closet for spring is a definite potentialiaty.

Daffodills are coming up where I don't remember planting them. Either there is a phantom gardener in the neighborhood, or the squirrels have been gang planting, or my memory is not what it used to be. Could it be possible? Gangs of squirrels moving bulbs from here to there? I know they are big with the walnut and hazlenut seedlings, but clusters of daffodils? I was told you can stop squirrels from digging up your daffodil bulbs by wrapping them in chicken wire, but how are you going to wrap a squirrel in chicken wire? And wouldn't the animal rights people have a runaway if they caught you at it? Doesn't make sense to me.

Monday was sunny

Flowers are very reasonably priced a day or two after the big V. Day. I can afford BOTH carnations AND tulips! (If everyone in America had a pink car, would that make America a pink carnation?)

Whatcha doin' Mom? Huh? Can I help? Mom? Mom, what's this? Am I a good helper, Mom?

One can always use an interested and enthusiastic assistant, right?

Big window plus sunshine equals a lounging of cats. It will be weeks (months?) before we see this again.

happy holiday

And on this day to honor the previous presidents of our glorious land, George Bush fell asleep at his desk, and in his dream he was approached by three of the most famous of our national leaders: George Washington,Thomas Jefferson, and Abraham Lincoln. George Washington spoke first and said, "George, my namesake, for the good of your country and for the good of history, I want you to spend the rest of your term telling the truth. If you have done wrong, admit. Like me, you should never tell a lie."

And President GW Bush said, "Well, you know, that's not expedient in the current state of the union what with all the terrorists and illegal imigrants and media blitzes. I just don't think I can do that, President Washington."

Then President Jefferson stepped forward and spoke."At least you must learn to listen to the people. This should be a government of the people, by the people, and for the people."

And President GW Bush said, "Well. things are a lot more complicated now than they were in your day, Tom. We can't let government get into the hands of amateurs."

Then President GW Bush turned to President Lincoln and said, "Do you have any advice for me, Abe?"

And Lincoln said, "Go to the theatre, George. Go to the theatre."

Sorry. I just couldn't help it!

On Sunday, DH and I went to the Yard and Garden Show and feasted our eyes on flowers and water features, patio furniture, and yard art. And whole portable gardens with full-grown trees and waterfalls brought in and set up on display.

As we strolled the display gardens, one of the ornamental pieces suddenly stood up and walked over to another setting, scaring the heck out of a number of the passers-by, She is using stilts and long balance poles, and does an eerie sort of slow dance as she moves from one garden to the next. I was so fascinated that I forgot to haul out my camera till the last minute.

And I notice in passing, that this is my 502nd post, and one day past my second anniversary in the blogverse. Wow, time does fly! You know I've been having fun.

Beware the ides of February

Caesar was told to be careful on the ides of March. the ides of March is a period of time that the winter's cold breaks, and relative warmth teases with a week or so of false spring. Caesar's problems were political, rather than meteorological. Around here, we get the ides of February, with sunshine andtemperatures up to 60 degrees. People will be running around in t-shirts and shorts, and driving convertibles with the top down. In two weeks, we will become another of those states with epedemic flu reports. And then it will rain till July.

But oh, the sunshine today! The sunshine!

I have a confession to make. Both Pat of Pumpkinknitter blog, and Tammy of Lavenderfields, have tagged me with the "You make my day" meme. And, though tickled silly, I have not passed the award along. How can I choose just ten? You ALL make my day! Every blog I check in to is a gift someone shares with me. A tiny bit of your life that I have the honor of participating in. Every one makes my day. Your kids, your knitting, your sorrows and joys. You all enlarge me and put me into perspective. Thank you, thank you! For the laughs and the tears and the news and the rants. You people make my day! Why else would I be so addicted to this blogging thing?

Knitting, I haz it

The next door neighbor was headed out for his mail today, and just had to ask why I was hunkered down in the wet grass with my yarn things. He's not exactly a Luddite, but computer facility is not his strong point. I explained about my blog and how I'm sharing pictures of my knitting with people from Toronto to Queensland, and he walked away looking more puzzled than before.
The snowdrops have been out for a week, now.

The sweater is one of those that I like to knit from side to side. The stripes, therefore, will be vertical on the finished garment.

Here's a close up so you can appreciate the colors. "Blue boo?" Who could find anything wrong with this dye job? I loves it!!

Last night, DH and I went to our favorite Italian restaurant for dinner. Man, the night after Valentine's Day is the time to dine. When we got there, there was one other coulple in the place. When we left, there were nine people there. I could have roller-skated through the place. The owner was happy to see us!

It was one of those damp chilly evenings when the cold seeps into your bones, and I wanted to start out with something warm to drink. I got a bourbon toddy, and since I hadn't eaten, it went straight to my head. Empty stomach, plus warm booze - what was I thinking? Oh my I felt all warm and happyyyyy. DH fed me garlic bread and made the room quit wobbling. DH can make everything better!! I love him soo much!

The food was good. Home made minestroni for starters. Dh had lasagne. I had fried oysters, and spaghetti with pesto. I used to think olive oil was olive oil and anyone who bought the more expensive stuff was just doing it for swank. I have learned the error of my ways. They use SUCH good olive oil at DaVinci's! I complimented the owner (who was also our waiter) and told him I could have licked the plate. "Go ahead," he said with a smile. I picked up the plate and licked the full length of it, and he burst out laughing. "I like you!" he chortled as he carried our bare empty plates away. Little does he know - one more hot toddy and I would have been dancing on the table. And at my age, that's not a pretty sight.

At last, some time to sew!

My vest is done! Yayyyy! The colors are sooo purty. Unfortunately, it still lacks a bit in elegance of construction. But unless you get your hands on it, you'll never know. I mean, if you are checking out the way I finished the neck, you're looking wayyy too closely at my clothes.
This is garb with pizazz. I can pizazz all over in this!

So now the machine is set up, and there are some pink and purple scraps sort of calling out to me. . . Sewing is as bad as knitting for me when it comes to using up the scraps, because I get started, and then I need just another yard of something - oh, - red maybe, to make it perfect! Off to Joanne's. I have never come out of Joanne's with just a yard of fabric. All the pretty colors and patterns go straight to my head and hog-tie my common sense. I went in for a yard of purple to finish this nice vest, and came out with $13 worth of coral and orange and sage green and red-orange fat quarters to go with some coral-colored left-over fabric MJ has that has been destined for another joint-venture quilt. Oh, and a yard of purple. So now I have a pile of happy, sunny callypso colors, playing tiny steel drums, dancing and singing and drinking cuba libres while they wait to be cut and sewn. Every time I walk by them, I hear little cotton voices singing "Day-o. Dayayay-o. Daylight come and me wan go home. . ." And not far from them are a pile of pink and purple scraps starting to form a conga line of their own . . .

Knitting is going on, though. I should be at a photo-op spot by tomorrow. Tammy MommyBird had a contest in which I won a skein of Blue Moon yarn. I believe it was considered something of a mistake. It was named "Blue-boo." I loves it! Not enough for a child's sweater alone, but with a little charcoal gray Cascade for contrast, we are rockin'!

Speaking of which, I still have to sit down and watch Dance Wars that DH recorded for me on Monday. I'll tell you, Bruno is no Fred Astaire.

Happy weekend!

Happy Valentine's Day

Do we all remember the lovely yarn that Dave Daniels dyed and spun? All those pretty muted pastels. Sigh of bliss!

Don't they just rock with my old-Norwegian-lady coloring? (I saw a book cover once - I think it was called Norwegian Humor - which featured two white-haired grandmotherly ladies in white blouses and white cardigan sweaters, both pale as snow with not even a touch of lipstick to put some color in the shot. Faded blue eyes, transparent eyebrows and lashes. . . It's a darn good thing that I have a vivid personality, or I could get lost in a thick fog.)

It's hard to take self portraits decently. I have several shots of the top of my head or of my chin and boobs, but this is about the best to show face and scarf together. I am wearing the scarf almost daily, Dave, and I loves it!



Spring is quietly sneaking up upon us. Buds are swelling. Crocus are blooming in shelterd areas. Squirrels are beginning to play grabass in the upper stories of the trees. The sap is rising, and Candy is keeping a close eye on it all.

Willow asked where you buy a yarn magnet. You don't buy one. Sometimes you become one. If you are prodigal with your gifts of knitting, and expect nothing in return,not even appreciation, the Universe will enable you to continue. As soon as you begin to expect something, anything at all, moths will descend upon you. Be grateful. Rejoice in what you have. Dance and be happy and knit on. Thus endeth the lesson.

Sometimes the stash finds you

Monday, I rolled out at 5 as usual, and hit the road at six. Tuesday was also a full day, but I didn't have to leave home till the lazy hour of seven. It's daylight by seven AM!

I had to leave by seven again today. And that just doesn't leave me time for a morning blogging session. But today I got home early, so here we go!

Monday morning we had a bit of an adventure before I left the house. Fly insisted that he needed to spend the day outside, so I opened the back door and let him out onto the patio in the dark. He got one step out, and froze, alertly focussed on something Out There. I turned on the backyard lights to see great fat possum waddling away as fast as her naked pink legs would take her. I am sure she is ripe with young, and that's just not what we need around here. For you folks from Oz, I should remark that possums around here get up to twenty pounds, are ugly, naked-tailed, rat-faced, beady-eyed, vermin, rife with ticks and fleas and carrying any number of contagious diseases. And a big one will happily take on a cat and win. I was not happy to see the little mother, and suggested to Fly that he spend the day cursing her. He sat himself down under the shelter of a lawn chair and proceeded to wash the whole experience out of his memory. But I haven't seen the possum around either, so who knows? Maybe someone down the block leaves out food for the dear little creatures.

Tuesday night, I got home to find a package from Amy Lane, of Writer's Lane.com. I have had the great priveledge of helping edit her latest book, Bitter Moon I, and she sent me; one, an autographed copy; two, several wonderful fiber themed post cards,; three, a t-shirt that says,"Official Member of the Amy Lane Editing Team - Transcending Typos, One Manuscript at a Time" (Squeeeeee! We loves it we does! We are sleeping in it!)
and four, two skeins of Rio de la Plata hand-spun, kettle-dyed wool. My flabber is completely ghasted, I can tell you!

I have been carrying this yarn around, asking it what it wants to become. Like any young being, it has been having trouble really settling on a future for itself. It wants to be mittens, no, a hat, no, a tea cozy, no, a fire truck, no a scarf, no, it wants to play with other yarns and be a sweater. A big sweater. A sweater that is bullet-proof and can fly and vanquishes evil! And,. . . and, . . . it leaps off tall buildings in a single bound! Yeah! That's what it wants to be - today. Tomorrow, it may want to be a ballerina. It can be anything it wants. This is America.

Naturally, the artistic consultants had to come by and contribute their suggestions.

But that's not the end of the stash acquisitions. Beth and her husband lived and worked in Africa decades ago. She is starting her spring cleaning early, and decided that this yarn would never get used in her house. It is karakul wool, spun in the Kalahari Mills in Botswana, and vegetable dyed by a women's co-0perative. And she just gave it to me!!

The white yarn came to me today from one of the gals in my writer's group who is also cleaning house. It's Harrisville wool. These are all fairly rough yarns, but they would be ideal for felting. or for some outerwear. And since this is fourty days of knitting for others, I might make some sweaters for the orphanage in Romania.

Sometimes, the stash just comes to you.

Sundaze

For my friends in Australia, here's my entire cozy collection. The white one even has a story. Decades ago I took a trip to Vancouver, British Columbia, and stopped in Munroes bookstore and discovered a bounty of Georgette Heyer novels. I bought as many as I could afford, then after I had returned home and gotten the trip paidd off, I wrote to Munroe's and ordered some more, explaining that I spent my Sunday mornings in bed reading Georgette Heyer and sipping tea till the pot wqs stone cold. My book order was shipp and I found this cozy enclose with a note "This will keep it hot till you drain the pot. No one should ever drink cold tea!"





A little knitting got done between the eating, talking and laughter on Saturday.

And here's another of my treasured cups. I do love the dragons!

Portland Purls at Chez Matthieu

The knitting gathering convened again. Second Saturday at Roxie's house, as ever. God bless LG who is always, on time! Is it just me? When the invitation says 10 AM, I assume the hostess means that she will be ready and waiting for the pleasure of your company by 9:55. Why does no one else show up on time?
I laid out my Asian tea cups (from China, Japan, Hong Kong, and Korea) and scattered mandarin oranges across the green table runner. I knew I wanted something other than white napkins, so I bought a couple yards of rust-colored broadcloth, Washed and pressed it, tore it into 12 inch squares, pulled off the loose threads, and used them as napkins. Very pretty. I wound up putting white cozies on the teapots, but I was especially pleased with how nice the purple teapot looked with the other colors.
And three days ago I cut a few sprigs of daphne off my well-loved bush at the front door, and brough them into the house. Oh, the perfume!!

The gingerbread with lemon curd and yogurt cheese was a big success. The almond cookies, not so much. Deviled eggs always go well. When have you ever had to take deviled eggs home from a potluck?

LG, ever the perfect guest, also brought some award-winning scones to share and those vanished like donuts at a policeman's ball. Yum!!

Maximizing the glory

Do you remember this gorgeous yarn that Dave Daniels gave me? I wanted to used every inch, sooo . . .
Using a solid-color alpaca and silk yarn, I knitted this nice soft lacey mesh, with a fifteen stitch stretch of stockinette. Drop those fifteen stitches and cut across the long strands left to make fringes. Now comes the hardest part. Cut the gorgeous yarn in pieces as long as the scarf and fringes.
After the cutting, things get easier. Weave those strands in and out the windows. Then knot all the fringey ends together, fling the scarf around your throat, and swagger in all your glory! It's a piece of art, Dave!

Yesterday I read the final chapter of my first book out loud to a 6th grade class. They were awesome! And what a rush it was to hear the approbation of many fans. The really cool part is that these are very bright kids and they have obviously thought a lot about the book. Their teacher asked them to share their favorite parts, and they blew me away. "I liked that she wasn't super. She had to struggle all the way through. Superheroes are boring." "I liked your descriptions. I could, like, really see the people and places." "How do you come up with your names? Relf was so right on for him." "I liked the fights. They were, like, really realistic." "I like that she wasn't all, you know, girly."

And the really cool part: the kids are all going to write letters to the local library and request that they buy copies of my books. SWOON!! Moreover, they all took home cards with the Authorhouse website so their parents could order the books on line. And most ego boosting of all, they mobbed me for my autograph!

On the run!

The Portland Purls will be gathering here on Saturday at 10 AM (And if I haven't gotten to you yet, and you want to come, please give me a call!) and I am working all day Friday, so today is the clean house, do the baking, set the table day. I was going to make gingerbread, but I'm out of molasses, so it's also shopping day. AND, it's the day when I am taking my first book, Sanna, Sorceress Apprentice, to read to a grade school class. So I'm flying low right now. Should I stuff the deviled eggs on Friday night, or wait till Saturday morning?

The suggestions for the "Discarded Flowers" yarn have been very helpful. A lace shawl is a lovely thought. I am, however, lace impaired. On the other hand, to quote Lucia (soundslikefuschia) I am bisticktual, so perhaps I should crochet something . . .

Dave Daniels of Cabin Cove fame has been on a wild spinning kick. Over two miles since Christmas I mean, holey crow! Two Miles of Yarn! So he has gotten into chubbies lately. (Norma, quite sniggering. We're talking about bulky yarn.) He showcased this gorgeous skein on his blog and I went mad with desire. (For the yarn, Norma. Dave's not my type.)And offered to make it up into a scarf using a Scandenavian finger-weaving technique called sprang. Dave, being the incredibly generous guy that he is, sent it to me and told me to make something for myself! Well, joy unbounded!

So I have a whole new plan for the yarn now. I have some of that lavender alpaca and silk yarn left. I'm using size ten needles and the world's most basic lace stitch (yo, k2tog) to make a soft lavender mesh through which I will weave Dave's gorgeous hand-spun bulky. Photos to follow!!

And DH, being the prince that he is, bought me a new skein of Artwalk Sock Yarn. Inspired by Renoir's Discarded Flowers. Soooo pretty! Oh, what will this grow up to be? I'm just not a sock knitter, but mitts maybe? Another scarf? I'll have to carry it around and dwell on it.

I got the piecing bug again

I've had this tropical fabric marinating in my stash, and a plan came together in my head. I don't have time for this, but I've been wanting to piece for weeks now, so finally I gave in. The mess gets liberally spread across the diningroom table, and the chief assistant arrives.
So far, so good - but why doe the fabric never go as far as I think it will? It's going to be a long vest, but I'll have to find a load more fabric to pull that off. And then there's lining as well. And my assistant doesn't think much of my haphazzard seams.

It's been picked up and stashed in the guest room all unfinished and needy, because my week is going to be way too darn busy. A friend (Jeff Creswell) has been reading Sanna to his 6th grade class, and has invited me to come in and read the final two chapters on Thursday. I am thrilled!! But that shoots half of Thursday. I'm working all day Tuesday and Friday, and I've got Writer's group on Wednesday so that leaves me the pre-seven AM spaces to clean house for the knitting group(the Portland Purls), set the table, and on Thursday, I'll get in some baking before and after the reading. There is no room left in here for sewing or I'll turn into one of those women who thinks she has to do everything and do it perfectly and go a hundred miles an hour with her hair on fire.

We are having gingerbread with yogurt cheese, almond cookies (maybe. If I can find the recipe.) clementines, and deviled eggs. And a selection of teas served in my Asian cups.

So sometime next week we will have further sewing pictures.

We went to see "Cloverfield" on Sunday instead of the football game. "Cloverfield is shot like a documentary with a hand-held camera. I started getting sick to my stomace with all the swooping and jerking and bad focusing. On the other hand, it was a pretty good critter flick. They stayed true to the premise - that this is a video shot by two guys who have no idea what's going on and never actually find out. And everyone dies in the end. The critter has young or parasites or something that jump off it and attack people and they are the thing of nightmares - Like mastiff-sized carnivorous insects. Eeeeewwwww!

A new LYS! -Yarnia

Yesterday, the comic gods of weather were spraying our neighborhood with air-flavored slushies. It wasn't actually snow, it wasn't quite rain, and it wasn't sticking. There's a hill about two miles away, and we could read altitude on it by the snow level. Houses on the top of the hill had an accumulation of snow in the street and yards. Houses halfway down had white roofs, but black track on the streets. Just a hundred feet up from the valley floor, the slush was falling as real snow and melting very slowly. The Empire State building could have experienced the whole gamut, I betcha. How tall is the Empire State Building, anyhow?

Be that as it may, DH, who is the kindest man in the world, knows I hate to drive in the freezy skid stuff, and at this time of the year, there's no telling when falling slush will decide to start freezing, so he offered to drive me to the new yarn store. Kudos and wreathes of glory to him! And kisses all over his face!

The new yarn store is Yarnia. SE 42nd and Division. It isn't flat on Division but kind of sideways in one of those angled blocks. A new concept in yarn stores. They have shelves and shelves of very fine yarn
And I doubt not that their stock will grow as their working capital does. They have cotton and wool and mohair and some alpaca and a variety of synthetics. Some boucles and slubbies, all sorts of single plies.
You select your colors and fibers, and tell the nice people how much you want, and they put the cones of singles on this big industrial size winder, and custom blend your yarn for you. Then they sell it by the pound!

Here are a few cones of yarns already plies up to give you an idea of where you could go with it.
And here is my purchase - wool and mylar (my inner magpie saw shiney and had to have it!) a quarter pounder for $8. Can't beat it with a stick!

http://www.yarniapdx.com Check it out!

Why is it that I can respond to some people's comments and not others? Have I set up Blogger wrong somehow? I am loving all the strokes and affirmation you have been giving me, and I want to thank each and every one of you. May the happiness you give me shine back twofold onto you.