Now Norma Knits

129. And Manise Shall Have Her Pup Tent Compost Bin

w00t!  This just in!  I will be going to NH tomorrow.  One day only!  Get it while it's hot. 

Wait a second.  That started to get out of hand.  But anyhoo, yes. I'm going to break away for a day of fiber frolicking.  And I think it's going to be a lot of what the doctor ordered.  That is not to say I ever listen to the doctors much, but anyway.  Yes.  New Hampshire, here I come. 

As I've been tentatively planning this micro-getaway, there have been a few wild cards.  I've also been trying to secure a compost bin to bring to Manise from, you know, "that place."  Well, I'm tellin' ya.  It's been a bit of a roller-coaster ride.  But the short story is after two trips there, I finally got one, because I really did not believe the woman who told me they were on backorder until May 30, so I waited a day and returned and found a different salesperson.  The young man who was assisting me started to say, "I wish I could..." and then he changed directions in mid-sentence.  I promise I did not do anything inappropriate like lift my shirt or anything rash like that to get him to change his mind.  That would actually have scared him (he's a YOUNG man, remember?). He then said, "It's your lucky day," and he left for a while and came back with the box which I hope contains a compost bin.  I have not looked inside. Manise, if I get there and it turns out it's a pup tent, you are GETTING A PUP TENT, and I don't want to hear one word of complaint, mmkay? 

What he did NOT come back with was the other thing I asked for, which was a bean tower.  I suppose I will have to lift my shirt for that. Sigh. 

Who will I see there? In New Hampshire, I mean.  Not under my shirt.  Cripes, you people.

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LADIES WHO LUNCH, ANN AND NORMA STYLE

Yesterday I got an email from Ann saying she was probably going to go to Plattsburgh to make a delivery of goods to her gorgeous toy and hobby store over there, and could I do lunch.  Well, it just so happens that I was free, so off we went.  I was waiting in the park-n-ride looking for her Lexus.  But instead, in drives this wild maniac in a plain white paneled van, screaming, "Norrrrrrmaaaaaaaa!" and we were off across the pond for some fun. 

Please note Dan, Dan, the Bartender Man.  He makes a mean tangerine-grapefruit Margarita.  I took his picture, and the poor naive man thought he was kidding when he said, "I expect to see this all over the internet tomorrow."  Hahaha. Done! We finally came clean and Ann made out like I was some sort of celebrity or something and told him what to Google to get here.  Hi, Dan!

Ann made me some adorable festival-goin' earrings. Balls of yarn. Aren't they the cutest? We did a little knitting on the ferry ride, and I got to see her lovely Ariann. Taupe Cotton-Ease, and really really GRR-EAT!

We had delicious crabcakes, a delicious salad, and a margarita or two. We managed to make it back without getting arrested, and a grapefruit time was had by all*. By the end of Sunday, I will have used up my quota of fun for a good long time, I guess.

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*I totally stole that most excellent pun from Ann's later text message to me.

121. Public Service Announcements and a Whine Sandwich

I have a few Public Service Announcements.

1.  Cathy-Cate is celebrating her blogiversary in a unique and wonderful way.  Go see what she has to say and tell her you've donated to win some wonderful prizes.  Happy Blogiversary, Cathy-Cate!

2.  Claudia has posted about a new challenge here. Green errand-running, at least once a week.  I'm on board. Are you?

When I started writing this post I thought it was going to be more substance, less whinage.  But here comes the whine portion of the program.  Don't say I didn't warn you.

Due to a little bit of "life is not fair" that is currently up my nose, I'm not going to be in Maryland this weekend. I'm feeling more sad about it than I thought I would. I'm hoping that I might squeak a day out of (or rather, into) New Hampshire next weekend, but it's iffy. Cummington?  Nope. (To the non-knitting readers, these are festivals I'd like to be able to go to.  It's a big sheep-and-wool festival season, and you might think you've seen one/you've seen 'em all, and there is a little bit of truth to that, but it's more for the people than the sheep and the yarn -- at least for me.)

I'll live, but I still reserve the right to whine. 

Oh, wait.  I remembered a couple other things I was going to talk about in the Public Service Announcement realm.  It'll be like a whine sandwich:  A tasty thick slice of whine held together by some nice whole-grain bread.    

3.  This is for a few people in the comments who had questions or statements about composting oak leaves.  Oak leaves can be composted.  I also labored for years under the misimpression that they could not be composted, based on some things that were written in early organic gardening treatises.  There was an idea that oak leaves contained a hormone that inhibited growth of other plants as a protective mechanism to basically hog its environment and keep out competition. However, it appears that in more recent years this was exposed as a myth, which makes me very happy since my pin oak now spews forth bushels of leaves every year. I did learn in the plant biology section of the class I just covered that oak leaves have a tough coating that makes them break down slowly, and they are relatively acidic.  So shredding them (though I don't bother), patience, and the "power-composting" that occurs in those efficient compost bins like I use (i.e., high heat), or lasagna-layering, followed by a little lime should your soil need it, should do the trick. Here is a nice article (with a chart -- scroll down a bit) about things you should and should not compost. 

I had to laugh at the dryer lint. I will have to remember that next time. Waste not, want not, I guess. Please do not send me your dryer lint to add to my compost bin. But maybe if dust bunnies are compostable, it might encourage me to sweep them up.

Nah.

I will happily take shipments of old rabbit or chicken manure, though. If you have some to send, I'll send you my address. You think I'm kidding, don't you? But I'm not. And here's some good stuff specifically about composting oak leaves.

4.  My friend Doug Sprei from the Orphan Foundation has posted in the OFA blog about an article that CNN.com posted a couple of days ago, written by the Associated Press, and Eileen McCaffrey, Executive Director of OFA's well-worded response to them. His post is entitled When The Press Gets it Wrong.

He says it well: 

"You can send a quick rebuke of your own via email to the Associated Press; as well as to CNN.com. When the press gets it wrong, respectfully written rebuttals sometimes coax them to get it right."

Hey, I have a little idea.  This might be a nice time to send the Red Scarf Fund a little tax-deductible donation. I think the fund has been sitting rather quiet for a while. Hey, since I'm saving all that money by not going to Maryland, I'll send in a little donation myself. Now, there's a silver lining for ya.  And I claim I'm not a Pollyanna. 

In case you want to click, too, here you go:

Stuff and Nonsense

1.  Reading Sandy's Ode to the Eveready this morning made me nostalgic.  And hungry.   Perhaps a bit thirsty, too.   

2.  My earlobes hurt.  I got them pierced yesterday.  Re-pierced, really. Not anything radical like holes going up the entire lobe or anything.   No belly-button rings, no tattoos.  Just an old-lady kind of piercing, like the conservative middle-aged woman I am.  (stop laughing)  The original holes were too low on the lobe, and that, combined with the added effects of gravity, well, it really limited the type of earrings I could wear. Wires were really all I could wear, or very tiny studs, and they sometimes looked like they were going to rip through the bottom at any moment.  Not a great look.  So now I'm going to have two holes in each ear, perhaps looking a bit ridiculous, but there you have it.   

3.  For the ear-piercing adventure, I went into the mall.  I have not been in that mall for a long, long time, and I felt very out of place.  However, I did buy two new pairs of boots.  Two-for sales can be wonderful things.

Like these (Tommy Hilfiger Miranda 2), one pair in each color.  (black and brown)  These fall somewhere between the "take me now" boots and the flatter riding boots I often wear.  One must have a full wardrobe of boots.  That's my new rule.   

4.  Why am I telling you about ear-piercing and mall misadventures?  I've become beyond banal.  The Bloglines subscriptions have been dropping like flies, and it was not an unusual event at Rhinebeck last week to have people approach me, having seen my Blogger Bingo button, to ask who I was.  When I said "I'm Norma," the response was often an "Oh," coupled with a blank stare -- the kind that says, "Never heard of you."  The best tipoff, for the few of us whose names are a part of our blog names, is when someone says, "And do you have a blog?"  Hee. While the return of some level of anonymity is somewhat lovely and freeing, as compared to past years when it seemed that I knew everyone and everyone knew me, it just goes to show how tenuous and fleeting it all is, and how huge the whole phenomenon has become.  Of course, I know that if I would just knit once in a while, this being a knitting blog and all, that might help.  Assuming I want to be helped.  Hmmmm...Do I?

5.  I came away from Rhinebeck with the thought, "Blogs are out, Ravelry is in."  I'm redundant.

6.  I'm currently reading Extreme Chocolate in The New Yorker.  I bet someone has put together a gourmand chocolate adventure trip.  If so, please don't tell me about it.  I'd rather not know. 

7.  After completing this post, I went to read Cookie.  From there I ended up here, and yeah, this about sums it up:

(click for bigger)  Apparently I should not take on any intellectual pursuits in the next few weeks.  Don't even ask me my name or telephone number on November 3rd.  I'm sure to be unable to answer.  Cookie just said:  At least you'll be happy and feeling good.  Sadly, you may not be smart enough to enjoy it.  Bitch.  Hee-hee.

French Fry Spam Casserole and More Rhinebeck Musings

I love gmail.  Where else would I get all those delicious and healthful Spam recipe links?  Somebody must eat that stuff or they wouldn't still make it.  Who?  Who!  Come out of the closet, you Spam-eating freaks!  I bet Ann Coulter eats it, which would explain a lot. 

I'm supposing you'd like to know what I bought in Rhinebeck. In truth, I did not support the festival economy as much as in past years.  Except for the food vendors, that is.  And I did support the infrastructure and the greater local economy a good bit. 

The sweet and hilarious woman who tended one of the bathrooms got lots of my dollar bills.  You just gotta love her.  Now, there is a woman who knows how to have attitude.  She alone was worth the price of admission to the fairgrounds -- am I right?  I wanted to take her photo  (she was beautiful, too), but didn't want to exploit her in that way.  There goes my naivete again:  She's probably an actor/model/comedian with an agent and performance schedule.  I bet she'd have posed for a photo in a heartbeat, and she probably has her OWN blog. 

But wasn't she fabulous?  I know a lot of you know what I mean.  "If you can't see feet, go ahead and take a seat!"  "If you tinkle on the seatie, wipe it off like a sweetie!"  "The lady in blue is keeping it clean for you!"  I wish I could remember more of her -isms.  She never stopped, all.day.long.  She was a hard-working comic and deserved the money she was raking in.  And there is nothing better than clean bathrooms to make a festival enjoyable. 

I also gave the Metro-North Railroad money for train tickets for Abigail and Ryan to join a group of us for dinner, and of course I paid for the starving artists' dinners.  Someone must have photos of Abigail and Ryan.  How I managed to not have some is beyond me.  (see "cocktails" below)

Yay for Sandy!  She sent these commemorating the event of Carole, an honest-to-goodness As The World Turns fan, meeting the new soap star, Ryan. 

I had more cocktails this weekend than I've had in a long time.  A cute story:  The waiter on Saturday apologized for taking so long to bring my Margarita.  He had to go to the liquor store to buy some more tequila.  I swear I did not drink the whole bottle the night before!  We were a little disappointed that the Eveready did not serve their wine and their cocktails in Ball canning jars for the kitsch factor, but man, did I need those Margaritas.   

So, about the shopping:  Aside from some gifts, this is all I bought:

1. A skein of Brooks Farm Acero with a simple lace scarf pattern that came with it.  Brooks Farm is worth buying because it can't be easily found elsewhere.  That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

2.  2 skeins of Foxfire cormo-silk blend.  This is truly exquisite, and it was almost gone.  Sandy and I each bought two skeins.  We have both attempted and failed, due to technical difficulties with our respective yarn choices, to make those wonderful Aran Island Mittens from Folk Mittens, like Pat made so beautifully here.  I think this might be THE yarn to give us success. 

3.  A Lisa Lloyd scarf and hat pattern that I thought was nice, and it was made in the above-mentioned Foxfire cormo-silk blend, so if the mittens don't work out, there is always the scarf to make.  As if I needed an excuse. 

Is The Zaftig Woman Yet Singing?

Holy crap, how about those Red Sox?  As I'm writing this, it's the bottom of the 8th, 9-2.  BUT.  It IS the Red Sox.  I love those guys, but like most men, they fall short of goal on a regular basis*.  And the fat lady has not yet sung. (*am I maybe being too harsh? nah. hee)

Oops.  I had not yet finished writing that sentence and now it's 11-2.  Okay, so perhaps the fat lady is warming up her vocal cords. 

Sorry, that was just a little baseball aside.  You didn't know I liked baseball, did you?  There is a baseball story in my past.  You don't know everything about me yet.  And you can take that to the bank.

Let's talk more wool festival, shall we?

I promised photos, and I've got photos.

A woman and her mini.  This has nothing to do with sheep and wool, perhaps.  But a woman needs transportation, doesn't she?  Okay, then. 

Not the fat lady, but they're singing.  They were adorable performers.  (P.S.  The Red Sox fat lady, she IS now singing.  Cool.)

Artichokes French, my verdict:  Worth the always-long wait.

Funny women Ann (another Mini-owner) and Vicki and fab chicken pot pies. (Have I mentioned the food at the New York Sheep & Wool Festival is the best of any event ever, anywhere?  I'm not kidding.)

Favorite food-related conversation of the weekend:

LEIGH:  I've never had bread pudding.  What is it?
SANDY:  It's made of bread and eggs and cinnamon and sugar and ...
LEIGH:  So it's sort of like bread meatloaf?

Vietnamese spring rolls from the Culinary Institute tent.  Yes, you read that right:  Culinary Institute tent.  I need a bigger stomach.  Not a bigger abdomen -- a bigger stomach.

Gorgeous Cara.  (those were her spring rolls up there)

My lamb chops, spinach, and lamb ravioli.  (so.freakin'.GOOD) 

A woman's gotta have a bag.  (My signature is on the bottom right corner.  See it?)

Orange Shirts A-Go-Go. Jess, Rachael et moi.

Hello, my name is Norma.  I'm a Ravelry Flunky. (but lovely Jess gave me a button anyway)

  Says Sandy:  "Norma, this is not-Not Plain Jane." At least that's what I heard.  I thought it was a double negative, but I was wrong.  She was just stuttering.  This is NOT Plain Jane. 

A photo especially for Dave. 

This was my favorite Rhinebeck festival ever.  Favorite!  I think it was because I didn't focus much on the shopping, but on taking it easy and enjoying the people and the atmosphere and not trying to attend everything that was happening and not worrying so much about other people.  As always, I did not get to see and do everything, and I did not get to see everyone I might have liked to see, but it was a thoroughly enjoyable weekend. I got to spend some time with lots more people than I have photographic evidence of, and built up many more lovely memories.

There's much more to tell, but I'll save that for another day.

Greetings From Sheepland (Updated Version)

Of course you know what I'm going to say:  I'm almost too tired for words. (too much fun, too much food, too many cocktails, not enough sleep going on here)  But here are some images from last night and today, with pithy captions.  [Sunday night:  Links completed, and additional notes in red. You do know that you can make the photos bigger by clicking on them, right?]

The jeans.  The boots. 

Steek-Cutting as a Spectator Sport  The venerable MamaCate, who is nearing completion of her gorgeous Autumn Rose sweater, cuts the neck steek.  We were all well fortified with wine to steel our nerves.  At least that was the excuse. Look at her smile! 

Sarah, The Fish Knits.  Can you get any more gorgeous than Sarah?
 

The Eveready.  Not Your Grandmother's Diner.  Filet mignon, leg of lamb, sauteed spinach, herb-crusted salmon, lobster ravioli, seafood risotto, killer cocktails, stupendous desserts -- I wasn't able to get a reservation at the CIA, and I'm not sad.  The Eveready delivers gourmet quality at probably 1/3 the price, fast, and in a super-fun atmosphere.  Oh, and if you want real diner food (burgers, pot roast, meatloaf, French fries, breakfast all day?), they got that, too.  And you can wear jeans. 

Tip:  Always trust Sandy for restaurant recommendations.  She was the one who urged trying the Eveready for dinner.  She watches the Food Network and they featured this place.  Trust Sandy.  

JessaLu

Chappy's Mom and Grandma

Bookish Baby

Kris, who gets extra credit for asking me where my camera was.

Stitchy McYarnpants

Most creative button placement.  (Lucia) [I've run out of steam with the linkage.  I'm going to come back and finish the links another day.  Ta-ta!]

More with the blogger baby boom. 

Kilt Watch  The boxers underneath were grey plaid on Saturday, and olive green plaid on Sunday.  Not every guy would lift his kilt for me, but Mel was more than happy to on both days.   Glad he changed his underwear.   

Michelle and Jackie

When you hug Rachael, the sun shines on your head.  Hug-A-Go-Go.

  Something pretty.  Needle-felted log cabin design on wool.  (in progress) And that's all I really know about it.  I saw it at a vendor's booth and was struck by its beauty, so I photographed it.

More to come soon! 

Rhinebeck-Bound

a)  The wheel has been sold.  It's on its way to Rhinebeck and that incredible multi-tasker Ruth.  I'm betting that her beautiful older daughter ("Her Ladyship") might be trying it out at the hotel, too.  Mazel tov, Ruth!

2)  Rhinebeck for me this year is all about the people, not the yarn or the fiber.  Well, all right, I will LOOK, but not BUY.  Too much.  Unless there is something that I simply MUST have.  *cough*   I am going to do my damnedest to not have camnesia this time.  If you see me and I don't have my camera out, ASK ME WHY NOT!  For the people keeping the home fires burning, I will bring my laptop and try to send you a missive from the field at the end of the day on Saturday.   

Third)  I'm a square for Rhinebeck Blogger Bingo for both Saturday and Sunday.  I might not be there for long, if at all, on Sunday, so catch as catch can.  I should have one of those big tote bags that announce, "I'm a square!" but I don't.  All I have is a button.  Apparently it's going to be too warm to wear a heavy wool sweater, and it might be rainy.  If so, I'll be wearing a yellow slicker, I suppose, and like all of us, I imagine I will be having a really bad hair day.  Maybe it will be the right weather for my Summer Tweed Chamomile sweater. 

This is what the sweater and I look like:

There is only one possible complication:  I seem to have misplaced the lace-up tie thingy.  The hunt is on.  Perhaps a shoelace will be in its place.   

Last year I missed the big noontime blogger meetup because I was standing in line for food. (What?!)  But after that, I came up the hill and around the corner, and I heard Stephanie announce, "There's Norma," which allowed someone to spot me and shout out BINGO! and start jumping up and down like a crazy happy person.  Apparently I was the last square needed on that person's card.  It felt slightly surreal.  Only slightly. 

Next)   If you see me anywhere, don't be shy about coming up and saying hi.  I'm not nearly as scary as I seem, especially if you're offering me truffles.

Dropped Balls, School, and The VT S&W Breakfast Club

Julie brought to my attention that I forgot to email her about the winner of her prize the other day.  That error has now been corrected, but did I forget to email any of the other winners or prize donors?  The names are listed in Friday's entry.  I tried to connect everyone up so addresses could be exchanged, but it's possible I may have lost my marbles messed up.  Please let me know if you notice your name on the list but did not get an email from me.  We want you to get your prize!

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School is back in session, so I'm right out straight.  I was busy CARTing orientation events all weekend long, in packed, un-air-conditioned gyms.  I left each time feeling as if I'd done a Bikram yoga class...without, you know, that whole stretching [and relaxing (?)] part.  It's a good thing the work is so rewarding and appreciated. It's a great feeling when people ooh and ahh over one's work and oodles of college kids and parents and grandparents come up and say, "Wow! That is the coolest thing!  How do you do that?!" Kinda worth all the sweat.

There's an interesting dynamic at work there that I never really thought about before.  It would be a better, easier-to-control, easier-to-concentrate, more comfortable, and more anonymous environment to be in a sound studio with audio and video feeds, like the work in television captioning, but then no one would be saying, "That's so COOL."  The "that's so COOL" is pretty awesome.  Things that make you go hmmmm......

It looks like my course load for this semester (subject to change, especially in the first couple of weeks, of course) is Abnormal Psychology, Sports Nutrition, and Human Biology.  Not nearly as varied as last semester.  Relatively speaking, it should be a piece of cake, except it's not quite enough work for me in a week.  Only a very few people get to have their cake and eat it, too. Sadly, I'm not one of them.  So this might mean I will have to take a smattering of depositions, as well. Bah! I don't like moving back and forth between the two -- the equipment needs are slightly different and the brain skillset is quite a lot different.  Fingers crossed that I can pick up a few more classes so I can do just one thing and do it well, rather than having to tax my brain too much by having to constantly switch between the two.  I can't afford any more overuse of this little brain.  I'm running on a deficit most days as it is.

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A reminder that the Vermont Sheep & Wool Festival is coming up September 8 and 9, 2007.

Breakfast Club!

Two years ago several of us met at Libby's Blue Line Diner, which is right off I-89 in Colchester (Exit 16, a/k/a "the Costco exit" -- if you're coming north, take a left off the exit; right if you're coming south), for breakfast before heading to the festival.  In an email the other night, Lee Ann asked if we could do The Breakfast Club thing again this year.  I said, "Perfect!"

Paula and Lee Ann (with Twinkletoes) and I will plan to be there on Saturday (the 8th) at about 9 a.m.  Wanna join?

 

A Missed Landmark and Heads Up! Vermont S & W

So I blew right past my 1,000th post ...um...I'm too lazy to look up the date now, but it was ten posts ago.  Oh, how cavalier we become about the little blog after a period of time, no?  In the beginning, we mark every little thing with a grand celebration, and eventually it all becomes..... well, a tad boring, honestly.  Not YOU!  I'm not saying YOU are boring....I'm just boring....and bored.  A bit like life in general, I suspect.  Someone at a gathering (sorry I can't remember who) once said, "Someday we will probably all look back and say, 'Remember when we all had blogs?'"  like, "how quaint a time that was."  Heh.

But one thousand posts.  Let us pause for a moment of reflection on what that means.  A friend who is always in synch with me happened to send me this tonight.  Seems appropriate for the occasion.

Okay, enough on the sentimental reflection, then.

********************

But!  We don't want to miss this, for lack of me saying so:  Last year they screwed around with the date of the Vermont Sheep & Wool Festival. I and a handful of others were there, relatively alone, and though I met up with Margot and Rob and Judy and Dave and Kathy and a couple blogless friends, Pippi and Jessie and I apparently circled each other without seeing each other. Everybody expected it to be, as it always had been, the first weekend of October, but nooooooo, it was the first weekend (ish) of SEPTEMBER.  And it was terribly squashed into smaller quarters because there was supposedly a conflict in scheduling.  I arrived at the fairgrounds and strode directly to the new, beautiful buildings in which it was housed the year before, only to find them empty and locked up and I was thinking that I had got the date wrong.  I wandered around and found a few pathetic buildings and a few (not pathetic) people.  It was sad, people!  Sad!  So this year, make no mistake, I am saying it here: 

Vermont Sheep & Wool Festival 2007 is the weekend of September 8-9.  I know our sweet Lee Ann is coming down from Montreal.  Who else?  Come on up! (or down or over) Let's party!

Rhinebeckonomics

I wasn't spending anything.  Really.  I bought nothing. No, seriously! I wasn't even shopping, because it was too crowded to shop and I've bought all that work equipment lately.

But somehow the $110 cash David put in my wallet before I left, added to the $90 that was already in there, and the $140 that Sandy and Leigh each gave me for the room, resulted in this much when I arrived home:

What the?!  Where in the world did all the money go? 

Partly to Mel, my own personal knitting veterinarian blogger who helped me so when Vincent was ill, and his partner David.  That yarn is soooo soft and gorgeous I couldn't pass it up.  Mel had an Irish Hiking Scarf knitted in it, and that's what mine is going to be, too.  LOVE.IT.  My David likes to wear red socks in jury trials. It's a superstition thing or something.  I don't ask. It just is. But I knew he would love these alpaca blend lovelies. 
Partly to Angoraonline.com (Thanks to Paula's eagle eye for spotting this in the last minutes of my time on the grounds.  I had been searching and searching and consulting and consulting with the experts, and everyone told me that angora yarn is all but impossible to find here -- that the good stuff is from France.  Angora fiber for spinning -- easy.  Angora yarn?  Not in America.  Huh.  Never knew that.  But I finally found these little pathetic skeins of handspun angora.  They're a bit rough around the edges [they look better in a ball than the little skeins I bought] and the colors from which to choose weren't the greatest, but I wanted to get these for Jane.  I hope I did ok, Jane.)

Partly to Green Mountain Spinnery.  They need no link.  Sandy and I got sister mitten kits.  I started knitting one next to Kristen.  I'm warning you:  Beware Kristen spinning.  She gets a little rambunctious.  Well, that, and also Sandy. She's just mean. She threw the mitten into Kristen's wheel, but I won't point any fingers or make any wild accusations. What, haven't you heard of that new super-expensive novelty yarn?  The kind that already has a mitten cuff spun into it? It totally could catch on. It could be the next Socks That Rock.  Or not.  Lucky for us, Kristen finished a surgery rotation recently, so extricating a mitten cuff from just-spun wool?  Easy.

Partly to Golding and Stefania, and partly to Jacquard dyes.

Partly to feed my tastebuds and fat pads.

Ahhhhh, it was wonderful to see so many friends, sad that I couldn't see everyone, sad that I only spent terribly limited time with some, but wonderful to spend quality time with a few, as well.  So many people were so fun and lovely.  So giving. Paula was a lovely addition to the group in our room.  She is a frighteningly fabulous knitter, and she came bearing gifts of Fleece Artist roving and butter tarts, and the best gift ever -- a red scarf for the Red Scarf Project.  (I'm sorry to play favorites and not link ALL the important people, but my head feels ready to explode at all the linkage.  Don't feel slighted if I forgot to link you, please!)

Speaking of the Red Scarf Project, take a dip over to the Red Scarf blog and please write a note to Panera saying you'd love to have knit meetings at their establishment (where you will of course buy much food and drink) and you'd also love for them to take part in the Red Scarf Project as a sponsor.  We need your help in convincing them they should do this and that they will benefit from doing so. 

So back to real life now.  Yesterday I had a doctor's appointment.  When I took out my wallet to show my insurance card to the billing secretary, this fell out of my purse. 
Thanks a LOT, Ann! I'll get you, my pretty.  You just wait.