THE CRONES ARE COMING!

Every first weekend in December, my spinning guild gathers in Pleasant Hill, Kentucky at a restored Shaker community for spinning, fun and friendship. And food. Don't forget the food. Everyone in the group tries to come, so we have forty to fifty women and some men there. I have been going for 6 or 7 years.

Three years ago, in the summer, whilst mowing the lawn, Sandy had a thought. We should honor and celebrate these older women in the group for all they have done for us tadpoles. Thus was born the Crowning of the Crones and the Crone Procession. Every member of the guild votes, and this year it is a landslide - but I can't tell you who it is, it's a secret until tomorrow night! The Old Crones and a few of us planners call out the name(s) of the new inductees, who are then garbed in purple capes, a sterling silver spinning wheel charm necklace, a hat and scepter (a drop spindle with a thyroid condition.) Then all the Crones parade around the room (last year, Martha played Pomp and Circumstance on the hammer dulcimer) three times.

The first inductee of this select group was Vivian. She was surprised and speechless when she was dragged to the center of the room and then bedecked in her cape and hat and all. Sandy gave a heart felt speech, everyone screamed, hollered, and clapped and thought it was over.

Apparently Norma Jean thought it was over, too, as she confided to Martha, "I am so glad that wasn't me!" Ha ha! Her expression was priceless when her name was called as the second Crone inductee! She received the same honors as Vivian. I thought I was going to die, I laughed so hard!

What is my part in this spectacle? I don't write the songs, I make the costumes. And I wait until the last minute to buy all the fabric and stuff, because nothing brings out creativity more than a lack of options. That's my story anyway, and I'm sticking to it. I'm mostly done with the capes, but still have the hats and scepters to finish. I leave tomorrow around 1:00. Plenty of time! (For those of you that don't know, I used to make costumes for the theatre, movies and TV way back when.)

Here is baby bunny, still alive. When I checked on him tonight, though, his body temperature was cool to the touch and he had a bite from mom on his little head. Not a bad bite, but no bite from mom is a good bite. I neatened up the nest and held him for awhile to warm him. Maybe Bambi missed Percival, who I had caged this morning, so I turned him loose again. He generally hangs out at her cage, sometimes jumping on top of it. I'll check on baby again tonight, maybe put some cardboard under him so he can't just lie on the cage floor.


Life... is like a grapefruit. It's orange and squishy, and has a few pips in it, and some folks have half a one for breakfast.
  - Douglas Adams

Have we met?

The neonate is thriving, (touch wood) and looks brown like mom, Bambi.

Clipt Griselda this evening.
I find it hard to capture the bunny essence in my photos, except for Murgie. He doesn't take a bad picture. But tonight, it is Griselda's turn to be featured.

Caution!! Bad Words Ahead

Essence Of NYC: A Play in One Act

Bimbo tourist #1: Anyway, so when he pulled it out of me it made this farting noise, and I know it wasn't a fart because it didn't smell, and... It was just really embarrassing.
Bimbo tourist #2: Quip.
Bimbo tourist #1: What?
Bimbo tourist #2: A quip. The farting noise, it's called a 'quip.'
Bimbo tourist #1: Oh, they have a name for it? Wow.
Bimbo tourist #2: Oh, totally. It happens to a lot of people.
Stranger: Um, that's not right.
Bimbo tourist #2: Excuse me, sir?
Stranger: No, it's 'queef.'
Bimbo tourist #2: Wait, what?
Bimbo tourist #1: I think he's saying his name is 'Queef' or something.
Bimbo tourist #2: Oh, sorry. Excuse me, Queef?
Stranger: No... Oh, lord. The sound, it's 'queef.'
Bimbo tourist #2: Who's a 'queef?' What's going on?
Bimbo tourist #1: I think he's one of those crazy subway guys you hear about. I think he's telling us he's gay.
Stranger: I can hear you, and I'm not... What? That's 'queer,' you ingrate!
Bimbo tourist #1: Here's some money for you, sir. Buy your boyfriend a nice grocery cart or something.
Stranger: What?! Does it look like I'm homeless to you? I'm wearing fucking YSL over here... I ain't queer and I ain't homeless. You ignorant, you skinny, Paris Hilton-wannabe whores. All I was saying to you was that when your sleazy-ass friend over here pulled her boyfriend's dick out of her STD-ridden pussy, the word...
Bimbo tourist #1: I'm not following... Is he speaking Cockney or something?
Bimbo tourist #2: I don't know. Are you allowed to mace crazy hobos?
Stranger: ...I'm not fucking crazy!
Bimbo tourist #2: Of course you aren't, sir.
Passenger: Oh, shut your mouth, both of ya, or I'm gonna whoop both your scrawny asses, you hear?
Stranger: Thank you. All I was saying was...
Old lady: Ah, hell no! Can't you see this conversation has gone past anyone in this damn subway's comprehension? Know when to drop it, brother. Know when to drop it.
Bimbo tourist #2: [Mouthing] Oh my god.
Bimbo tourist #1: I know. That was intense.
Stranger, muttering to himself: ... Last time I ever take a subway... Unbelievable shit I put up with... Fucking Civics... Unreliable fuckers...

--L train

via Overheard in New York, Nov 28, 2006

Scattered thoughts today. One holiday down, two to go.

The weather has been extremely nice for the past several days. Highs in the 60s, lows in the 40s.

Maybe that is why I saw so many dead creatures on my drive to town and back. Raccoons, possums, red squirrels, gray squirrels, cats, rabbits, deer. Maybe they are disoriented by the warmer than usual temps, I don't know, but it made me sad to see them all. At least today, they were dead dead and not suffering, not just injured - that hurts to see. Death is one thing; suffering is another thing altogether.

I guess that Percival isn't shooting all blanks as Bambi, the brown short hair, had kits this morning. I didn't even know she was pregnant. (Backstory - Bambi is one of the two ground pounders. Short hair rescues. I have let both of them roam freely in the loft until last week when everybody got caged for the winter.) Bambi has been nest building for months and months and has had no babies. So I was surprised this morning to see three dead babies on the wire cage floor. She seems to forgotten all about nest building. The fourth one was cold but still breathing so I did my best to warm him up. Gave him a drop or two of orphan kitten liquid. I placed some of Bambi's old nest material into the cage and put the baby back. I can't raise it - not that young, anyway. He is still alive 8 hours later.

My immediate reaction was to blame myself. If only I had gone to the barn earlier I might have been able to save them all. If only I this and if only I that. Guys don't do that, do they? - most guys anyway. So I said to myself that if Bambi had been a better mother, all of her kits might have lived. I cannot take on guilt anymore for things I cannot control.

But still, that and the road kill made me very sad today.

Since I don't want to depress you all totally, I will end with a shot of Murgatroyd waiting at the door to be let out. It seems like every time I open the door, either a cat or a dog goes in or out. He figured out the door thing on his own, most likely after seeing said cats and dog coming and going.

I GIVE THANKS

Any holiday is a good holiday when nobody ends up in tears of distress. Sweetie and I had a simple pork roast with baked potatoes and a waldorf salad sort of, I think. Apple, raisins, shredded carrots and cabbage, sour cream and I-talian dressing (my secret ingredient in many a dish, let me tell ya.) No celery. (Hi, Larry!) It was really nice, just the two of us.

He went shopping today. I was shocked! Shocked, I tell you! He asked if I wanted to go and I said, "Not no, but hell no." Said he saw all the Kingsley women, all of them, at the mall. I, being the psycho anti-social freak that I am, would have run in the opposite direction, but Sweetie is not misnamed. He chit-chatted with them and listened to their stories and a good time was had by all.

Later, we went to Marengo to visit Sharon's AlterKnit Universe. Very clever name, yes? The Universe is still being renovated, but is a way cool space. I am so glad it is not me involved.

The shawl is complete! I wore it today. Here is detail of the ruffle. I wanted a deeper ruffle but in the end, I got tired and quit. It weighs 15 ounces.

Yeah, round is nice, but I think I like my square ones better. They fit my shoulders more gracefully. And also every other row is plain. But the whole point of this shawl was to be a sampler of Fuzzarelly Fibers

Murgie had his way with Lucy yesterday. Bunny porn - I mean, I did feel like a voyeur. We'll just see. Here he is resting.

Whir at you from?

What American accent do you have? Your Result: The Midland   "You have a Midland accent" is just another way of saying "you don't have an accent." You probably are from the Midland (Pennsylvania, southern Ohio, southern Indiana, southern Illinois, and Missouri) but then for all we know you could be from Florida or Charleston or one of those big southern cities like Atlanta or Dallas. You have a good voice for TV and radio.
Philadelphia
The South
The Inland North
The Northeast
The West
Boston
North Central
What American accent do you have? Take More Quizzes

MORE BUNNY TAILS

Hello kids! I have another Murgatroyd story to tell.

Murgie went missing the other night. Where was that little dickens? I found him and here is his route.

From the kitchen, he traversed the pantry, the laundry room and bathroom, went down a hall a bit, nibbled the edges of the back living room and ended up in my studio aka junk room. He was under my big ass loom, playing with Millie.

I snagged the little shit and held him close, and I felt him stiffen with pique. Taking him back to his place, I could tell he was pissed because his little adventure had been cut short. He even nibbled my arm just a bit to let me know how unhappy he was. Here he is hiding behind the cabinet in the kitchen.

I wish I could let him go wherever he pleased, but until he is litter trained, I just can't. Bunny pee is awful. It reeks. It can remove paint. However, his potty training is going well, and he uses the paper almost exclusively. By removing the rug by the couch, I limited his mobility and therefore, his ability to pee on same. (Hardwood floors are not easy for crippled bunnies to navigate.) I have begun to leave him out of his cage all the time. I still love that little guy so much! (Even with his sometimes grumpy behavior.)

Late at night, he and Millie play and roam as far as they can. I shut the bathroom door so they can't get to the studio.

Hi, remember the studio? I have made more progress by moving all wool and fiber upstairs in what we cleverly call the basement. Wow. What a difference. It is now a room in which a person can move.

The shawl is almost done! There are about 700 stitches on the 36" circulars and it is crowded. I want a ruffle around the edge which means big increases. I should have a photo of some sort this week.

Are you as surprised as I am that it is almost Thanksgiving? I haven't heard boo from my three brothers as to family plans, (maybe I wouldn't go but it is nice to be asked,) but I have several invites from friends. I don't know what Sweetie and I will do.

And to end, a drawing by friend Haleigh.