Peace and beautiful things

That's a pic of the water lilies at the college in Olds. I think many of us need to see something this lovely and serene right now. For some reason, people seemed to have slipped sideways in the last week and have just gone weird en masse.
So take a deep cleansing breath and look at the pretty flowers and the peaceful water.
Nice isn't it.
I don't read the posts on the Mystery Stole 3 group, but apparently a bunch of people over there haven't been playing well with others. In fact they have been so awful that I doubt Melanie will offer the Mystery Stole again. This is a really nice thing that is offered up free and for fun that some people have chosen to ruin for everyone else.
So, on my behalf and that of all the rest of us who just get our clues and happily knit away, I want to thank Melanie for doing this. And let her know that we really appreciate the time and effort she has put into sharing this great thing with so many people.
Here's my stole so far:


I've finished clue #4 and now have to wait for two weeks to get the next part. Damn Harry Potter!
The Ribby Pulli is almost in one piece. I'm working on the second sleeve for the long sleeve, hooded version with the kangaroo pocket.


I think this will be a good wardrobe staple. I've done it in black cotton, so it's bound to get lots of wear.
I've had to set it aside for some stealth knitting for the time being (niece's 1st birthday coming up). And I'm still waiting on some measurements so I can get a move on the Blue Moon designs.
I've been playing a bit on Ravelry too. It's a daunting thing. I'm not at all sure even where to start with the stash list. And before you offer, I know a bunch of would gladly "help" me with this problem. I know who you are and you're never getting the alarm code.
The monkey is off on his annual fishing trip tomorrow. He knows the drill. No salmon, no come home.

Let's clarify a few things

This is MY blog. The things I write about are mine. The feelings, frustrations and opinions are MINE.
When others read these things, I equate it with them being guests in my home. If someone is rude, unpleasant or otherwise untoward in my home, I ask them to leave.
If someone came to my home with a bag over their head so I couldn't tell who they were, I would make them leave.
Anonymous comments are not welcome on this blog.
I don't give a flying crap what you have to say if you don't have the balls to identify yourself.
That being said, no one on the internet is truly anonymous. We all leave little trails and I'd like to let everyone who sees this know that every time you visit a blog, the owner can tell a lot about you.
I know when you visited, where you live and/or work, what you looked at on this blog, how long you looked at it, where you were before you came here, and where you went on your way out. Food for thought isn't it?
What this means is, think before you make an unpleasant comment on someone's diary (that's how I feel about my blog). If their blog displeases you, DON'T READ IT.
I have never presented myself as anything other than what I am:
Liberal to the point of what my father would call a "bleeding heart".
Not religious.
Frequently, I swear like a trucker on long haul.
Completely in favor of gay rights. And everyone's rights for that matter.
Strongly, and I mean STRONGLY, against censorship.
If you find that any of these views offend you or upset you in any way, don't come here anymore. That is your right.

Why I don't open my front door

I know, it sounds completely antisocial.
And I've been accused by a couple of people in the last little while of being a hermit.
But how the hell else would I ever get this stuff done?!
Anyway, back on subject.
Yesterday two nicely dressed people spent a rather lot of time at the end of my driveway, then one of them came to my front door. Nicely dressed people in my driveway make me suspicious. Very suspicious.
Now. Before you judge me too harshly, and I know you already think I'm completely paranoid, I used to answer the front door. After a while I noticed an alarming trend, everyone who came to my front door wanted something. Money, the insane neighbor (who's "accidental" death I am now configuring) wanting free guitar repairs, or, as in the case of yesterday's visitor, to save my eternal soul from the firey pit of hell in which it currently resides. Quite happily, I might add.
So the nicely dressed visitor knocks politley on my front door as I hide. Loki does the ritual barky thing for her and she pushes this through my mail slot:


I have no problem with people following an organized religion. Many of my friends are spiritual in some way. I like that. It makes for interesting and sometimes animated discussions. People need to have different points of view or we may as well all live in Stepford.
I do have a slight problem with the above tract. When did Jesus start using "the" before his name? Has he been hanging out with The Donald? Does he now refer to himself in that alarming third person way? And hey! What's with the 'do? He looks like the after shot in a Grecian Formula beard ad. He's all clean cut and incredibly white for someone with a middle eastern background from 2000 years ago.
And it immediately brought this to my mind:


Buddy Christ (or should it be "The" Buddy Christ?) from the movie Dogma. He was the new "hipper" persona that the Catholic church thought would bring young people back to the fold. It was supposed to be funny. It wasn't real. It was a movie. Heaven help us, somebody thinks it'll work!
Just look at that tract. Doesn't The Christ look awfully close to giving us all a big thumbs up? Yipes!
So. The end of this tragic tale is this: if you're a friend of mine don't come to the front door. Come around to the back, I have the kettle on.

Home Again

Well, we got back from Olds (Lynne and I) Saturday night and I've been in hiding ever since.
It's a long drive and Lynne likes to do it in one go. Since I don't feel totally comfy driving her big beast of a car (I drive a teeny weeny sports car) she does the entire thing. I don't know how she does it and I really appreciate it. I make sure she gets food and stuff to drink without driving off the road.
It was a long ten days. Seven of those were class and two were travel days. That left one day of playing in the barn full of fleeces being judged and fibre vendors. I didn't buy too much this year, in fact, most of the stuff I brought back wasn't for me. I sent three fleeces to the mill for processing, brought one home for a friend along with some mill end fibre, some yarn and these:


Two Tabachek spindles in mahogany and ebony, a yew noste and a padauk Forrester with a little spider burnt into the top of it.
Class involved a day of procion dyeing:


And a lot of spinning. I managed to get a number of the samples I need for my notebook done in class. But there are a lot more left to do. We had to spin everything from polyester batting to silk hankies. From very thick and lofty to lace weight. We even had to make our own silk hankies. Those silk worm pupae are very stinky. Blech. Glad I didn't have to do that one at home.


I started the MS3 yesterday. I'm using Alpaca with a Twist's laceweight silk and alpaca with matte gold/mauve/green oilslick beads. I'm only halfway through the first pattern, so I'm definitely going to fall behind on this knitalong. Especially since I have to get back to reality spinning and knitting tomorrow.


I've got four spinning level books that need to be turned in before next March or I won't be able to take the final level next year. I know that sounds like a long time, but the homework for these things is huge.
I still have to write up the pattern for the Firefly tank and start drafting five others.
Yup. the manic laughter is starting again.
Gotta go check the fleece drying on the deck.
I get to put it through the combs for my next level project. Um. Yay?