••• Sunday, September 26, 2004

I Have a Dreamy
I have blocked and sewn up the Creamy Dreamy but haven't yet tackled the crochet edging.

I had to widen the sleeves (in short order 'cause they short sleeves) to fit the extended armholes. They kind of bunch up in the back, but look fine in the front, on account of the extra acreage. I'll post pictures when I'm entirely done, just before I put it away for the winter.

As I approached the Dreamy finish line, I said aloud, "Yay! What shall I do next?" Then my husband gives me a look. It's the look he saves for special moments. Rare moments, far and few between, when he lays down the law and makes demands. Demands of a most private and scintillating nature. Demands that leave me no choice but total acquiescence.
A man has needs, woman. You've been neglecting me, and now it's time to pay. I'll tell you what you're doing next. YO You're gonna do what I say.

Wh-wh-what's that?

You're gonna get out your garters.

Then what are you gonna make me do?

You're gonna strip, for me.




Hmm..I don't know... Kitchen table? Floor? No. The couch. You're gonna strip for me, on the couch. Now.
So I fetched my garters and strip I did.

Garter squares for an afghan, sewn into strips. In fact, for the next few weeks, I'm all about garters and stripping for my husband. No other knitting will pass my lap.

A while back I promised my husband that he'd have his afghan for watching college football on TV. I didn't say exactly which part of the college football season he'd be watching, so if I have it done by the bowl games, I'm still good.

I have about 12 more squares to knit. Needless to say, I am really looking forward to getting this afghan gorilla off my back, and onto his.

Make it Stop!
The weather. I want it to be Fall. I think we've had more 80 degree days in September than we did in June and July combined. I know it sounds lame to complain about nice weather, but summer at the end of September is kind of like reuniting with an ex-boyfriend. At first it's really great, but after awhile you start to get restless and soon realize that the seasons change for a reason and it's time to move on.

Yesterday my husband wanted to go to a local harvest themed craft fair (yeah, he's kind of a freak). I really had other things to do and thought it was going to be too hot for milling with the cider crowd. Besides, I'm kind of over craft fairs. I'm kind of over booths filled with jig-saw puzzles and eucalyptus wreaths and elaborately ugly hand-knit sweaters and texturized sheets of ceramic stuck with marbles and copper wiring for hanging on your wall. Hmmm..where to put that?

So grumpily into the sunshine I went, and happily ended up harvesting a wonderful Sunday afternoon. The Cakers had a riot at the kids' booths, the squash bisque was out of its gourd and I made some finds.

This is a closeup of the silk scarf I bought for my mom. It's called a "burnout" pattern. All done by hand, of course. Except for "rayon" and "wash," I didn't understand anything the woman said as she explained the process. I likes it. That's all that matters.

Here's a tile to add to my angel collection:

And regardless of how bad a crafty day's overall booty call, I must have my token craft fair earrings. These beauts exceeded all expectations:

No clever endings today. I'll just leave y'all dangling.

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