Monday, March 19, 2007

It's a grey and wet day. Not so cold. Cool. The weather this time of year can be exciting. Two (three?) years ago, Sweetie and I had a tornado go over the house. Most exciting! I recall that we were watching one of the Louisville television WEATHER STORM TEAM stations. They reported on possible tornadoes all over everywhere-else-but-here Kentucky. Please, we're just over the river, people. To the west of you. You know - the WEST? Where your weather almost always comes from? Eventually, after an obscenely long red light in hot afternoon traffic, the computer graphic focused on southern Harrison County and "Hey, isn't that swirly symbol right over Laconia?" We grabbed Bonnie and Buster and tucked ourselves into the front room closet, located under stairs, the safest place in our house. Full of nails, tools, and all sorts of sharp, metal things.

After 15 seconds and as I was beginning to wonder about the wisdom of our refugee locale, we heard the freight train go over the house. We felt the air being sucked out of the building and a sort of shriek. That was it. (The smartass question - What did tornadoes sound like before freight trains?) We lost a tree and a half at Camp Swampy and one of the dwarf apple trees in the side yard is now canted at a 60 degree angle. One neighbor lost the roof to one of his outbuildings, about 40 ft x 120 ft. He said it took off in one piece like a sail. It was an exiting night. For around here.

The thing about tornadoes is that, like the rain, they happen to both the wicked and the holy. Except that they do seem to pick on unsecured mobile homes, don't they? I am sure that both wicked and holy people live in trailers.

Had another stress dream last night. No Tom Cruise. No Space Opera. Just another of those backstage-opera-near-tragedy dreams. Sweetie said I woke him with my wriggling and mumbling. He told me that I said, "You're not sewing it right!"

I remember it being one of those long, tedious, all-night-long dreams. I was in charge (?) of costumes for a big opera, name unknown. I seem to recall that I spent sleepless days working on the wardrobe (with side trips to search for snaps and boning) and, just before the buzzer, everything was done on time and beautifully. If I do say so myself. There were Scarlet Pimpernel style tailcoats in dark green wool. Oh yah, leprechauns.

I've named the lovely brown, I think female baby "Ginger." She is living inside with Murgie and Heizen.

All the other bunnies have been sent to the front porch gulag. They love daffydils.

This is the green angora that I have been drumcarding.


nancyneverswept said...

Disaster has struck-- the Yarn Harlot's visit to Lexington is on our next Friendship Spinners day! Quel quandary!! And some clown (that's cleaned-up for clueless dickhead) ran into my Mini and crunched it. Today is NOT GOOD, and I'm pissed off and bummed, despite spring coming. What can I do, O Great Fuzzarelly?

pamperedproboscis said...

The culprit is a short man named Pete. These guys are notorius for crunching minis. I hope he is apprehended quickly.

nancyneverswept said...

Never mind, I found it for myself... the forsythias are about to burst into bloom, and it turns out that's tonic enough. That, and the knowledge that middle-aged businessmen who hire young clueless dickheads are bright enough to have LOTS of insurance to cover mishaps, and things begin to look up.

WoolyWorm said...

Hi! How can I get my hands on a little bit of the green angora blend? I've been lusting after your fiber since seeing Barb spinning it at Shakertown last December. I keep checking your website, but I don't see anything for sale. Unfortunately, as I told Nancyneverswept, it's hard for me to get to Saturday meetings while my kids are still at home ... and I can't wait four years for some of your luscious angora!

Also, the Yarn Harlot is coming to Lexington again? Cool!

Penny in Edgewood

nancyneverswept said...

Check "Harlot on Tour" on the right sidebar of her blog (don't I just sound all komputer literate an' all?)for date-and-time. And I'll just be in Boston, KY, in an ambivalent state.