I’m having a hard time getting and staying online lately, something to do with my phone service. Normal people call the phone company when this happens, I suppose. Me? I was glad to have the time to spin. (Yes, I will write. But right NOW is for spinning.)
Seriously, it’s getting to be addictive. I slept three hours in a total of sixty over the weekend, mostly because the four hour slot I was supposed to sleep on Saturday night (extra shift on Easter) was used up with fiber insomnia. What if I hold the wool like this? What if I adjusted the band just this way? What would it be like to spin alpaca? The question was raised why I just didn’t get up and spin a little while, and the answer was: I was too MAD about being awake. So I just kept my eyes squinched shut, willing myself to sleep, watching the wheel spin ’round in my head.
Is this how crazy starts? It might be.
Now, when I think of MDSW, I’m thinking about roving and combed top, not yarn and cute little sheepdogs (yes, we’re going! Woot!). (Also: When I think of MDSW, I think of what my friend Monica heard when I said it out loud: "Maryland Sheep and Wolf Festival." She was horrified. Let’s all call it that, shall we?)
And before I run back to the wheel (o lovely lovely wool), I must show you what I got over the weekend, in addition to the best homemade enchiladas ever.
I got some Cadbury Creme Eggs.
Forty-eight, to be exact. (Lala bought fifty-two, actually, but her brother got some along the way, as is right and good.) She just kept pulling them out of bags, and then more bags. Boxes and boxes of happiness. Sheer chocolate goodness. Come on over. I have plenty.
And in fact, I have the Last Egg in Oakland. We hit the stores yesterday, looking for sales, but all we could find was this one, which Lala found abandoned at the bottom of a cart full of scary sugary baskets.
Yes, that’s Koigu. No, I didn’t set up the purse to highlight the wool — if I had, I now realize it would have been good form to have moved the pad. Oh, wells.
Now. Back to spinning and eggs and the imminent but welcome sugar crash.
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