I'm ignoring that last post. It didn't happen. For that matter, December didn't happen. Well, except for the stocking I knitted for my dad. That happened, finished on the 24th. Of course.
On St. Distaff Day last Saturday I went to a huge spin-in sponsored by Northwest Regional Spinners Association. As usual, I came home with more stuff than I took. I'm not quite sure how it happens--the fiber just jumps in my arms, and then I have to take the sweet, affectionate stuff home. It's not my fault. Really.
I've been on a spinning kick ever since. Quilting? Nah. Applique? Nope. Knitting? Well, maybe, if done with handspun. Spinning? Yes! Especially spinning this purple-y stuff, which I started knitting a sweater out of. I didn't *intend* to start a new project. But I really wanted to see what the yarn would look like knitted up, and the yarn told me right away what sweater it wanted to be, so I had to cast on, right? (Are you noticing a theme here? Not my fault. I didn't do it.)
Words You *Don't* Want to Hear
From DH: "Ewww! Someone [one of our cats] puked on your quilt table!" Luckily, there was no permanent damage done. A manila folder caught the mess. And my heart started right back up again.