I am about halfway between Lancaster County, PA, and Tuscarawas County, OH. That's pretty much Amish and Mennonite ground zero. The relevance of this? I live in the land of People Who Make Stuff. Go to the county fair and ask sheep herders about buying fleeces? They don't bat an eye. Knit in public? The further out into the country you go, the less people seem to notice. (Also, HAND MADE CHEESES, but that's another blog post.) What does this mean in practicality?
Vogue Knitting at the grocery store. Yep. Not kidding.
So, while in there to pick up lemons (lemonade) and chocolate (PMS), I swung through to pick up the new VK so I could review it. And there, lo and behold, in the rack right above the VK? SPIN*OFF. Can you believe it?? Spin*Off at the GROCERY STORE?
A couple pygora goats in the back yard, and life would be about perfect. Okay, and some 'blue' angora bunnies. And a sheep.
This was supposed to be a blog post about black smokers. (The geothermal vents, no tobacco involved.) Unfortunately I got bogged down on the Goob's school, and I do need to start photo-editing the VK review. Maybe tomorrow.
The Goob is sitting here reading Phineas and Ferb magazine (also at the grocery store), and watching Mythbusters. That's my little geek.
The other day we were watching a school video, and the teacher asked "What's a baby pigeon called?" and the Goober yelled "A PIDGELING!" I think we're going to have to keep that word.
Anyone seen my ball winder? It has disappeared into The Pit. I know I unpacked it, but I can't find the damn thing. Soon as I buy a new one, I'll find the fucker, so I'm hand-winding Cascade 220 and cursing.
So. Where's the damn ball winder??!!!!!