Monday, November 28, 2005


Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien

I try not to speak French, as it upsets Tigger. I was actually singing in French one day ("Gens du Pays", if anyone's interested) and he started howling. Not sure if it was my accent or the song itself, but I've tried to avoid doing so ever since. I certainly wouldn't be singing a Piaf song (dudes, you've heard me, gimme a break!).

Anyhow, I have no regrets whatsoever about having gone in the craft fair. There's another one in a couple of weeks and one of the women I split the table with has bought a table for that show, so my little box of stuff will be trotted over there also. Maybe I'll sell another cat toy. It was an interesting experience and I really didn't expect to make a fortune and we certainly know never to go in that fair again. I'll try the church sales next year.

It was a good excuse to get a lot of stuff done (and a girl can never have too many washcloths). I refused to drop my prices; there were crazy grannies there selling dishcloths 3 for $1.00 and entire afghans in merino for $35. WTF? I have no interest in selling my products for less than the cost of the materials.

Clearly they drink a bit.

Thank you for all of your kind comments. (And Libby, FSM is the Flying Spaghetti Monster. I'm a follower.)

Now that the hysteria of trying to get ready for the sale is over, and the hysteria of cleaning my house is as over as it's going to be for a while, I think I'm actually going to have some time to do what ~I~ want. The first project will be to block (and maybe fringe) and mail off the pink shawl I made, and then on to the spinnage. Spinning, spinning, day and night.

Expect pictures, if I can stop spinning and chortling long enough to take any.

chortling? whyfor with the chortling? I read the post twice and still wasn't certain. unless of course it's just because you've finally gone truly mad. not that there's anything wrong with that.
I converted too! I used to be an atheist. Until I was touched by his noodly appendage.
OK - still lost with the spaghetti monstrosity.

I think F*cking Sock Monkey was a hysterical interpretation, and while trying to explain it to someone, collapsed in a fit of giggles and was unable to gather my wits about me until just now. ANYWAY...

I want your egg yolk roving. I will even come and get it. :) I don't know what I would DO with it once I got it, except stare at it's utter loveliness, but that's beside the point.

Question though (as I write a Comment ESSAY): do y'all up there in the frozen north have flu shots? Cuz if you do, don't get one. I think my entire left side of my body is paralyzed. Ugh.
Assbucket still not forthcoming with wheel. Have sent several emails explaining the situation, waiting on response. Will keep you posted.

As for "nutya"...I'm confused again. Speak slowly. Use small words, but don't abbreviate, as I apparently am acronym-disabled.

And now the power is threatening to go out. Send whiskey, Valium and yarn. Lots of yarn. I can knit by candlelight, as long as I don't sit close....
Awesome. The first meeting of the Society of Drunken Spinners is finally in session. Bring too much of your favourite beverage, whatever fibre you could score off of whatever animal was willing to give it to you, and whatever implement of massive spinnery you feel most comfortable spinning with under the influence of the first thing.

Go, you. :-)And if you sing Piaf, I'll sing Polnareff and NO ONE will want to come near us.
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