We Back

It was a mixed weekend, a give and take, a ying and yang.

The festival was, for the second year, sparsely attended and many other vendors I spoke with, but not all, said that sales were meager. After my expenses of motel and gas, plus product cost, not including my time, I broke even.

On the plus side, my booth came with excellent lighting and it's own ceiling fan. I made new friends, bought sock yarn, made trades and came away with ideas to improve my presentation. I received pleasing comments about my fiber and the two shawls that I was able to display on the clean white walls.

Considering that I had not worked hard in the preceding weeks to prepare, and that I had miscalculated the date, the fact that I got my shit together and made it there at all is remarkable.

By way of cookie magic, I discovered that my blog has been nominated for best knitting blog name, by whom, I do not know and actually, for what purpose, I do not know.

But it is still cool.

uh oh

Sometimes I don't know how I can screw up my existence any worse. And then I do.

The Franklin, Indiana Hoosier Hills Fiberarts Festival is THIS WEEKEND. Not a couple of weeks away.

I am taking what I have, fiber wise, and five bunnies. Wish me luck.

Slow Monday

Sweetie is back to work doing start up at the potato chip mines. We had a wonderful three day weekend.

Everyone around here had hoped for rain but we didn't get more than sprinkles last night. Today is cloudy and hazy and hot. I am, of course, sequestered inside with my best friend, Central Air.

I have some photos! The latest shawl has been blocked. I am quite pleased with it. I have begun spinning for the next one.



Here is the evidence that I have been actually working. (I know. It's hard to believe.) This is pink Fuzzarelly Fiber for the Hoosier Hills FiberArts Festival in Franklin, IN.



Some of you know that I enjoy finding unusual vinyl record albums. I love this one. You cannot make this stuff up. What were the producers thinking? This shows the back.
The front sports a bright pink price sticker from Walgreen's - 87 cents. What a bargain!

Happy Holiday

Pushed mowed today, in spite of Sweetie's direct suggestion. "No push mowing and no weed whacking, okay?" Allergies and all that. But my allergies have been non-life-threatening, maybe a stuffy nose but no body inflammation. I can deal with a runny nose. So, I push mowed and it was a blast! After I did a hit of asthma medicine, I really felt great. My abs, such as they are, appreciated it. I mowed the entire front yard. Woo Hoo. Back in the day, I used to push mow over an acre every week, half of it uphill. That's when I was slim! Not so slim anymore, not since the riding lawn mower. And middle age.

So. The lace books arrived! The one book is called New Victorian Lace Today. I am in what passes for heaven - for me. Just finished knitting the latest shawl and will block it tomorrow. Maybe. Also trying to decide what to knit next. Meaning, what will I spin next?

I have found several new blogs about lace knitting and will post them to the sidebar. Maybe today. Using a dime for scale for lace yarns - wow. Check them out.

I hope you appreciate the meaning of this Memorial Day. When I lived in Atlanta, I became upset in - what was it - 1991? BS - Before Sweetie. One radio ad was about WSB's "Mom-orial Day." Pissed me off. War is not a cool thing, but men and women have DIED for our country and they have a day for their remembrance. Do not combine it with Mother's Day. Mothers have their own day.

So. Anyway. I made my protest call to the radio station.

That same year, I had to call some car dealership because they were advertising a "Ground War on Prices." This was during Operation Desert Storm. Was this tacky or what? People were in combat and dying, and they wanted to use that metaphor to sell cars. Pissed me off.

I called the dealership and expressed myself. Did it make a difference? I don't know but I had to do it. One can be for peacelovedove, but it is okay to remember those who died for us. It is also okay to remember those on the other side.

That is one lesson I got from my dad. He served in the Army in WW2. In Germany. Back in the sixties, wearing an Iron Cross was cool among a certain crowd, surfers and such. It pissed him off. He would say, "The men that wore that medal earned it. They were fighting for their country, just like I did." Coming from him, that was something. He was a complicated man.

Just Checking

TICKED OFF!!! I hate it when people forward bogus warnings, and I’ve even done it myself a couple times unintentionally...but this one is real, and it's important. So please send this warning to everyone on your e-mail list. If someone comes to your front door saying they are checking for ticks due to the warm weather and asks you to take your clothes off and dance around with your arms up, do not do it!! This is a scam!! They only want to see you naked! Wish I'd heard about this yesterday. Damn.

Otherwise, I am feeling really good - still! Almost three weeks and counting. Finishing the last 16 rows of the latest shawl and preparing for the Hoosier Hill Fiber Arts Festival in Franklin, IN. All the pretty colors!

Buster - A Story

Our dog Buster is the oddest old boy I have ever known. Bonnie was smart, much too smart for her own good, and was to be watched at all times. Buster, on the other hand, has always been sweet tempered and dumb, also loyal and needy.

I stole him from the next door neighbors during the fall and winter of '95 and '96. They were an awful couple with two awful children. One day, a little puppy appeared in a ramshackle "kennel" in their back yard. Part Rottweiller, part german shepherd and part wolf, the dad bragged. Mostly neglected and pitiful is how he seemed to us.

They called him Spooky because they brought him home in late October. At first, the kids would take him out every day or so for playtime, but you can guess the rest. As it got colder, they would only run out to toss some left over macaroni and cheese or some such over the fence for his supper, and then run back inside. I watched it all from my kitchen window.

He had no doghouse, no shelter except for a bale of straw, and it got cold that winter. One day it dropped to 5 degrees above, and I snatched him under cover of darkness and brought him into our house. Now, mind, Bonnie hated other dogs, hated hated hated other dogs, but for some reason, she tolerated Spooky. He was sooooo not a threat. Early the next morning, I took him back to the gulag.

It stayed cold and soon, Spooky was not just an sometimes overnight visitor, but a full time resident. Strangely, or maybe not, the neighbors didn't say a word. They were most likely glad not to have the thing to take care of anymore. Every so often, one of the kids would ask to take Spooky out to play and I obliged, but eventually, they didn't even bother with that.

I renamed him Buster, and he was not part Rottweiller/shepherd/wolf after all. Imagine that. A small shepherd/collie/whatever mutt was more like it. Bonnie taught him about table manners (no begging!) and potty manners (outside!) His one little flaw was food and toy greed (no wonder) and that must have been what prompted him to devour an entire calf-length athletic sock - with two knots tied in it. It took us awhile to miss the tug toy and by then, the little guy had gone off his feed. About the same time, The Incredible God Awful Snowy yet Cold Winter descended upon us. I had never, ever driven on snow or ice and wasn't about to start now, so I doctored him the best I could. (The vet was fifty minutes away - on clear roads. We were also exceedingly broke at that time.) I spooned Gatorade into him mostly, sometimes with cooked egg. Occasionally, he would keep it down but often as not he'd immediately barf it all back up. Nice.

Each morning, I would come downstairs expecting to see his cold, little corpse in his crate, but he survived my ministrations. His coat was pathetic, his eyes so dark and sad. For an entire month, I nursed him while the snow and wind raged outside. He seemed to feel better after awhile, well enough to go outside for short walks. The weather cleared and I made an appointment with the vet for later in the week. On our third or so walk, he scrunched down and strained to poop, and lo and behold, I saw part of a sock emerge. He struggled and struggled so I finally grabbed aholt of the nasty thing and gently pulled the sock from his behind. He only "Yiked!" at the knots.

Went to the vet next day, sort of after the fact. He got some shots and all turned out well. That little guy ate and ate and ate! His coat got its sheen back, his eyes brightened, his energy returned. And we never ever played tug of war with a sock again - never ever.

Buster is almost twelve now, and Bonnie is gone. He gets all of our attention, dog-wise, but has to share us with two cats, two house bunnies and the barn, porch, and yard bunnies, too.

Over this past winter, when all the baby bunnies were inside, Buster became their Special Protector. I've never seen anything like it. He acted as if those little fur balls were his own, whining over them and trying to run off the cats. He would groom them, oh so gently! When they were moved outside, Buster was there with them - as often as I'd let him. He'd bark warnings to the town dogs ("Go Away!") and sometimes, he'd even get between them and me. He would pick them up at times, by the nape of the neck like a momma dog, and move them away from perceived harm. However, once they got to a certain size, he backed off and let them be. As if his job were done.

Now we have the new litter and I've noticed all the previous behavior. Today, I let the five babies out for free time - mostly under adult supervision. Knowing that Buster was minding the store, I didn't worry. After awhile, I went to collect them and one was under my car. I was on my knees, fruitlessly trying to grab the errant one. I talked to Buster, saying, "Where's the baby? Where's the baby? Buster, get the baby!" and don't you know that he did! I saw him crawl under the car and grab the baby and pull him out, ever so gently, and keep him until I could scramble around to scoop him up.

What a Good Dog!




post script: The awful neighbors moved the next May and as I saw them off in their moving van, the oldest child turned to Mom and asked, "Can we take Spooky with us? Please?" For once she had some sense and said no.

Greetings, Earthloids!

The weather has turned delightful here in Lovely LA; cooler, less humid and breezy. Very much like May, in fact. It's been weird weather-wise so far this year what with the record setting cold of February and the record setting warmth of March. April was undecided as has May, so far.

The irises (or as the local folks call them - flags) are abloom and here are the ones by the back door. Notice that we still have our redneck insulation stapled up behind them. The plastic came in handy in February - see above.

By the way, since I have several photos to post, I have made them smaller than usual. Click them to make bigger, if desired.

Here is the promised shot of Bunicula, sans wool. He is a real sweetheart.


Also, a look at Bongo the One-Earred Bunny. She is a trouble maker, having escaped her cage not once, but twice in the past month. My only hope is that she is still too young to get preggers, what with Percival still on the loose. Which is Sweetie's desire and as he wants so little from me that if he wants one rabbit to be free in the loft, then one rabbit is free in the loft.



Went to the Friendship Spinners meeting this past Saturday. A small turnout, maybe twenty, but small groups make it easier to chat with everyone. We may not get a lot of spinning done, but we do get caught up on the news. And no matter how few we are, we still eat well.



Here is NancyNeverSwept proving that she was indeed in Maryland for the Sheep and Wool Festival. I like that zippered sweat shirt!



This in one of our male members, Ken, who is new to us but has been spinning and knitting for several years.




I have been feeling quite well for almost a week now. The dishes have been kept washed, the living room vacuumed and the front porch has been deep cleaned of bunny urine and other stuff. My allergies and asthma have not felled me. It feels good to feel good!