Wait, whoa. What?

Thanks to the glory of Benadryl, well, hell, how in fuck did it get to be July? I would have sworn it was mid-June.

Fucking sinuses.

Even the Tour de France/Tour de Fleece kicking off didn't register with me. I just sat in front of the wheel like a zombie and did some spinning.

This is Gotland wool. In top form.

It's in that crack between brown and gray; natural color. With top, you lose a lot of characteristics of the fiber in the processing. It's coarser than merino (big duh) and has some kind of crimp going on that makes it tricky to draft.

---

What finally snapped me out of the antihistimine haze is my Jeep.

We took off the doors and switched tops around, and it's ALMOST as good as a motorcycle; you can smell and feel where you are, just like when you're riding. But it's a darn sight safer. And can haul groceries. And has a radio.

I drove around like a maniac for most of the early afternoon, grinning stupidly and sliding around graveled corners on back roads. We're very near a lot of farms and have great back roads for this sort of thing. At one point I passed my neighbor; he was riding a four-wheeler like a bat out of hell, and I was going the other way in the Jeep. Like a bat out of hell. We waved and grinned like maniacs.


With luck, the adrenaline and the massive amounts of sinus medicine I've been taking will kick in, and I will become coherent. Well. More coherent.

I hope, I hope, I hope.