It’s happy crazy funtime around here lately, kids.

First, I’ve been spinning and knitting like a bat out of hell lately. I dyed this with Paas egg dye tablets and it’s spinning up really pretty. Pastels, which are so not my thing, but I’ll probably ply and knit socks out of it anyhow.

I’m also working on socks for Mom. It’s her Mother’s Day present. I let her pick the yarn and the pattern and they’re coming along nicely. I have about twice as much done as the photo shows. I need to get a new photo.

The yarn is Plymouth Happy Feet and the pattern is from Charlene Schurch’s More Sensational Socks. The stitch pattern is the Stansfield 14 from that book. I’m knitting them on 2’s.

I’ve also got a surprisingly hopping little business going on Etsy. I started making and selling snag-free stitch markers for knitters, but most specifically for sock knitters. We need us some tiny st markers, so I made a bunch and they’re selling well as is my sock yarn, surprisingly. I’m selling there to earn money for SAFF. I have a room booked through Knitch for the whole weekend. I’m sending in my registration to take Schurch’s Sock Options class. How awesome to meet the woman herself. I will be all fangrrl and ask her to sign my book, yes I will. Kelly is going with me, so that’ll be fun. We’ve asked to room together. Knitch rented out the entire Inn for the weekend, so it’ll be nothing but fiber folks running around high on wool fumes all weekend.

Since SAFF is still months away I’ve taken this month’s profit and sunk it back in for more supplies so I can have more stock and make more money. I plan on having a hellafun time at SAFF and spending recklessly without guilt.

We also had some nature visits lately. First I caught a huge garter snake in the backyard. I took him in so he could stink all over Jat. Then we let him go. We also had a pair of cardinals build a nest right next to the front porch. I got pictures of the baby right after he hatched.

I cut a small hole in my porch screen so I could stick my camera lens through it and get some decent photos. Lot of fucking good it did. Turns out it doesn’t matter. I went out there to check on him yesterday and he was gone

I ended up picking up my nephews at the bus stop on their last day of school Friday. Poor Ben, he was sobbing like his little heart was breaking. I asked him what was wrong and he said, through sobs, “I’m going to miss my teacher and my friends and I don’t want school to end!” We made it a little better with lemonade on the way home, though. I’m still shocked at how small he is. When I see him from a distance I always wonder, “Who is that 5 year old with no supervision??” It takes me a few seconds to realize it’s my 7 year old nephew. How sad.

In my studio class we’re doing digital ink and paint.  It’s a lot of fun, I’m using the hell out of my graphics tablet (about time) and having fun.  It’s probably fun because I have good equipment on a good computer and I’ve been fucking around with digital art for over a decade now so I already know a ton of tricks.  We’re developing a character.  I kind of like my little guy.  We’ve only just started adding color, so that part looks like shit.

In other news, we may be moving to Virginia. Jat is interviewing for a cushy fucking job up there in a couple of weeks. We’d have to buy a house, who the fuck would rent to us with all these animals other than my own mom? No one! We’d have to MOVE ALL OUR SHIT! That is an overwhelming proposition to consider. I’d be moving all 12 animals up there myself. That is also a daunting thought. I’m a ‘go with the flow see where life leads you’ kind of person, so I’m open to the possibility, but I don’t want to go. Everything I know is here. I’ve lived here practically my entire life, all my friends are here. Friends I’ve had since high school for fuck’s sake! My knitting/spinning groups are here, I have a happy knitting home not 5 minutes from my house. I’d have to start over with everything. I’d have to find a new internist who understands PCOS. A new stylist! Ack! Oh fuck, I’m going to have to ask my colorist to come with me though. It took me a while to find her and I don’t want to lose her. Shit, the same could be said for my stylist. Goddamnit.

But, stepping out of one’s comfort zone is how one grows as a person, or some shit. I know it’s good for me to expand my horizons, but that doesn’t mean I have to sing and dance through the process.

Another titmouse on the back porch. Stupid birds. I let it go. It flew off like a wild fucking bird should. It did NOT stick around to bite me.

I’ve finally gotten my ravelry all sorted out. Mostly. I still don’t have my entire yarn stash up there, but it’s getting closer! I also signed up for the next Knitty SP which starts in January. I’m really excited. I have the means and motivation to really spoil someone rotten and I’m looking forward to it. Not to mention the list of participants is awesome.

So Monday I sweep the walk free of leaves because I’m sick of almost busting my ass. Last year I did bust my ass. I get it swept and head down the driveway to get the mail. I step on a hickory nut, sprain my ankle, and fall face first down the damn thing ripping open my left palm and bashing the fuck out of my right knee. The fabric of my pants saved me from a skinned knee, but honestly I’d rather have the skinned knee. Fabric burn on this scale sucks a big fat one.

The first two thoughts I had as I was getting up were, “Did anyone see me make an ass out of myself?” and “Where the fuck is my shoe?” which had flown off while that nefarious nut was twisting my ankle all kinds of fucked up ways.

I’m fine, but today my neck has started to hurt when I turn my head a certain way. I don’t know what that’s all about.

Our back porch is a wild bird magnet.  Usually it’s house wrens or brown sparrows, but today it was a titmouse.  This is the second one I’ve had to capture and set free.  They make it in the porch ok, but can’t seem to get back out.  It squawked and fussed at me from the second it spotted me through the french doors.  Dogs and cats were, of course, fascinated.  I thought briefly about giving him to Darwin when I caught him, but decided not to, that’d just be mean and I don’t want to get a rep among the bird population as That Evil Bitch That Fed Jimmy To Her Snake.

So I caught him and he pecked at me a little and then curled up and went limp in my hand.  So I put my hand outside, opened it, the little bastard jumped up, bit me, and flew off just cussing me up one side and down the other.

Next time I’m feeding him to the snake.  Ingrate.