We had a visitor!

My sinuses have been trying to crawl out of the front of my head all day (most of the time I actually feel pretty good, but you'd never know it if you only read this blog), so when I came home my plan was to heavily medicate and crawl into my bed. Before I could, Gator urgently bid me come out on the back patio and "see something". It's like nature knew I was feeling poorly and sent a tiny emissary to cheer me!


He was so small and unafraid -- he almost tried to hop right into the house as I was taking pictures of him. It's actually Gator's and my first encounter with a baby wild rabbit (which, in retrospect, strikes both of us as kind of odd). I looked it up on this innernets (so it must be true!) and since he no longer has a white blaze on his nose, he is old enough to have been kicked out of the nest by his mother, so we're going to try not to worry about him too much. He's pretty fast, but I also read the depressing statistic that 95% percent of all wild rabbits die before they are six months old. But we're not going to think about that.

Here's another photo of our sweet little friend, with Gator's feet for scale. So adorable and wee!


Live well, tiny visitor. Stop by whenever you'd like; you're most welcome here.

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There's a lot going on here

Just in this post, mind you. Not in Real Life, goodness forbid!!

Last weekend, I decided that I was tired of Gator disparagingly referring to the spare bedroom as the "yarn storage room". Granted, it's where I keep my yarn, as well as my sewing machine and ironing board. We don't actually have a bed for the spare bedroom, so that's pretty much all that's in there. Oh, and empty boxes. Lots of those. But it's not like the "office", which is so full of his hobby crap that I can't use my own desk, gets referred to as the "wargaming miniatures storage room". Although I think I'm going to start. So there. Ppbbfftt.

So, last Sunday, I had a fit of grownuppedness in which I did not merely hurl insults back in kind, but I actually put empty boxes in the attic, went through all the stash, organized, labeled, stacked, and now the room is quite clear of yarn-type debris. In fact, it's an almost totally clean slate upon which to create anything! Also, yes, that is my giant tower of yarn bins, thankyouverymuch, and that's not even counting the bins of fabric that fit in the closet. Those are, yes, just yarn. One of them is just #10 crochet cotton. I know. It's a sickness.

So I get it all cleared out, clean slate and all, and guess what the conversation turned to?? Yep. All about how we should really turn this into a game room. Billiards? Fooseball? Of course not, sillies! Wargames! Argh! It's such a good thing that he's such a sweet, charming, lovable boy. And he is. :)

While I wading through the stash, I came across a source of frustration that I had shoved in the corner in an attempt to make it go away. But it didn't go away and I had to deal with it. Again, Argh! Almost two years ago I started a delightful pair of No-Purl Monkeys with my very first skein of Trekking XXL. I was loving them! Then I found a big ol' knot in ball, connecting two lengths of yarn. What up, Trekking people? Who taught you to make balls? One of the true beauties of making a one-skein object is the distinct lack of end-weaving! Grumble, grumble, moving on. So I continued with my hunky dory sock until it became obvious things were not hunky dory... See that distinctly brighter orange spot on the upper left, there? Yeah, that one?


Well, it turns out that not only does the knot join two lengths of yarn, they are apparently not of the same dye lot and very quite possibly even not the same colorway. So, I say, SRSLY, WTF, TREKKING PPL!?!? You do not even warrant full words. You are supposed to be professional yarny people who sell things people say nice things about! I know! I read many reviews of your products! A little splitty sometimes, sure, but overall a good, solid sock-making experience!

I'm not mad, Trekking, just very, very disappointed in you. Now go to your room and think about what you've done.

So I frogged the sock and can maybe get even two coffee cozies out of the frogged bit. The rest I still may be able to get a pair of anklets out of. And I can send two colors from one skein to Becky for her sock yarn blanket, if I ever get around to being a good friend again. Right now, though, this yarn is so seriously in time out that I don't even want to look at it for a bit.

Hi, I have very intense feelings about my yarn! I am that kind of crazy!

So, does this mean that there will be no delightful sock-yarn coffee cozies until I can stand to look upon my wayward Trekking innards? Why, no! It does not! In fact, there may be a simply gorgeous sock-yarn coffee cozie in my very near future! And how's that, you may ask? Well, it is thanks to my wondrous blog-buddy Laura! She had a contest on her blog a while back and asked folks to identify the uber-cute mug her parents gave her upon completion of her Physical Therapy coursework. Because I am a complete science dork and made up waaaayyy too many crazy ways to remember things while pulling all-nighters for gross anatomy, I was the winner!


Here's my awesome prize -- A sweet note, a scarf book, a sock book, and a tiny skein of Malabrigo that I am so excited to cast on! Let's just look at that charming little skein a little more closely, shall we?


Mmmmmm... Knitting pr0n...

In other news, I am still cursing my arm daily (the Biothrax injection in that arm didn't help matters any) and starting an elimination diet to see if I can figure out why my stomach is upset all the time. Also, I continue to putter along on the wedding afghan and have finally completed half of the blocks. More in the way of visual reports in the near future. Now I'm off to cook my last pork for at least two weeks. Oh, and drink my last beers... :(

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