First of all, I need one more willing soul to join the "Pay It Forward" group. C'mon, my friends. We're going to have a blast, and it's a really nice thing to do for someone else.
Second, I've sold some of the Lorna's, but I have over 100 skeins left. If I don't sell any more by tomorrow, then I have to start photographing it and putting it on Destash. Please don't make me spend an entire day and memory card taking pictures and then typing up descriptions. I may burn out my keyboard. I'm going to start inventorying the Opal on Sunday. I don't know if I can list it all here, but I'll figure out a way to do it. If you want some Opal and know the name and/or number, please e-mail me. I'll check for you before I list it.
Now for the fun stuff, since I know you all like to see pictures of Gabby peeking out from skeins of happiness.
The Yarn Fairy didn't have a lot today, but what he had was good stuff. I couldn't photograph one of the things because it's the last thing I ordered for my Monkey Swap pal (waving). As soon as I finish those infernal socks, I can send off her package. Anyway, the skeins on either side of Gabby are from Wooly Treasures (she doesn't name her colorways, but they're stunning), and the chestnut-colored skeins in the center were spun by a lovely lady named Kate. They're from Kate's alpaca, Katrina. It's a horribly sad story. Kate went out to feed her critters and found that Katrina had passed away sometime during the night. At least she was able to get the fleece and spin it up. I was fortunate to get some. It's soft as soft can be, and her spinning is outstanding. She also sent me some roving and a lock of Katrina's fleece so I could see what it looked like before she spun it. I didn't realize that alpaca locks are so long. In any case, enjoy.
So last night, we did our usual grocery store run and got home at a pretty good time. Neither one of us were hungry, so I settled down at the computer to take care of some stuff, and Hubster sat down in his chair. Three hours later, I woke up and had a huge dent in my face from leaning it against my ring, and Hubster was still snoring away. I woke him up, asked him to put on a pot, and I woke up two hours later to a cold cuppa. He made another pot. I woke up an hour after that to another cold cup. Sigh. We waste more coffee in this house. The upshot was that I didn't get to my knitting until after 3 a.m. Hubster went to bed at 4 a.m. (but not before I had a couple of my now infamous English muffins and ham - he makes them for me), and I put on my court shows. I woke up with the sun streaming in the room at 11 a.m.
I think I knit on auto-pilot sometimes because I immediately pulled the needles out of my boob (at least I didn't lose any this time) and began to knit. I was working on the heel flap (I thought I had finished it, but I was sleepy and not paying attention, so I counted every row instead of every two - just like my student did the other night), and when I got to the end of the row, I noticed that something wasn't right. The two end stitches had slipped off the needle and were trying to escape, but somehow they got all twisted up around each other. It took me 30 minutes to get them untwisted and oriented on the needle correctly. So I finally finished the flap, and when I'm done here (I've only been farting around on the computer for almost four hours), I'll turn the heel. That damned sock has been giving me no end of misery. I think it's because it's different from the type of sock I usually knit, and I'm treading in unknown waters. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it. Either that, or all the monkeys I've said I didn't like over the years have transferred their revenge on me to these shitty socks.
As for the "loud" part of the title? The damn phone has been ringing off the hook ALL DAY because Hubster is looking for a new job. Remember when I mentioned his horrible bonus this year? Well, we decided that maybe it was time for him to find greener pastures, so he put his resume on Craig's List. He got something like 25 queries and is busy setting up appointments. Some of them are for contractors (which is a problem because I need health insurance and can't get it privately - no company will insure me), but they pay very well. I guess his industry hires people on a contractor basis, see how they do, and if they like you, then they hire you after three months or so. He's not sure he'll leave his present company, but it doesn't hurt to look. I told him he should ask for a down payment on a house as part of his hiring package. He just looked at me like I had just asked for sex reassignment surgery.
So it's been a horribly boring day. I don't have any funny stories, anecdotes, or news. Oh! Yes I do! I e-mailed Crazy Aunt Purl and asked her if she would sign my book. Not only will she sign it, we may meet up next month when I'm in Los Angeles (we're going to be right up the street from her). How cool is that? We can brush cat hair off each other in the hotel lounge.
Off to knit. Or rather to lose needles and face whatever new disaster awaits me.