Live from Orangeville, Ontario!

Hello, there. Me again.

At physio, in Unicorn Pose

At physio, in Unicorn Pose. I don’t know what it says about me that the only recent photo I can come up with is me with a needle sticking out of my brain.

I’ve been working on a post for you for the past few weeks—struggling with it, editing and re-editing, really taking it to the mat to show who’s boss.

I finally got the darn thing done, complete with photos. I decided to make a cup of coffee before final review and posting. Went off, ground my beans, performed my usual French press ritual of brown smooth goodness, and then, warm mug in hand, toddled back to my computer.

I sat down, and discovered that a very interesting thing had occurred while I was off French-Pressing: my labour-of-love post had become BORING. Boring. All that writing, and editing, and yet more editing had just edited the life right out of that post.

Let’s begin afresh, shall we?

Welcome to Wiseheart Cottage!

Wiseheart Cottage 2015Yep, we’re homeowners now. Or rather, mortgage owners, to be precise.

We love this house. It has a serenity about it, and when you are inside it, or wandering around the garden, the place has an odd calming effect on both Melody and I.

It looks huge. I keep thinking, what about conspicuous consumption? What about living simply, walking lightly upon the earth? What about the PROPERTY TAXES?!

Nevermind all that for now, I suppose: It’s ours. We shall have plenty of time to ponder the philosophical ramifications of all that lovely money we handed over a few weeks back; meanwhile, we hope that the house will not be a solitary hermitage, but rather a place to celebrate all that is good with family and friends.

The house claimed us about fifteen minutes after we first entered the front door, about the time we g0t to the back of the house and saw this:

M_kitchen 2
By the time Melody was looking out the kitchen window, we had our realtor already on the phone to the seller’s agent putting in an official offer.

The back of the house is one big open room.

M_breakfast rm 2If you stand in the breakfast area there and turn around, this is what you see:

M_family rm 2 There is, of course, more: upstairs, downstairs, bathrooms, the whole thing. But I will save photos of those for later, because now it is time for a new game I’ve come up with for you.

Friend or Foe: Name That Plant

I have never, ever, EVER, had a garden in my entire life. The previous co-owner of this house had a really good pair of gardening shears and knew how to use them. Upon seeing the lovely flowering plants all ’round, the lush bushes, the charming trees, my first thought was, “Please, God, do not let me kill any of this, at least not in the first year.”

In other words, I do not know Plant Friend from Plant Foe. I have been weeding a little bit each day, and here’s my weeding strategy: If it spreads out like a starfish low to the ground and looks a bit prickly, it is a FOE and it must GO. If it is a tiny cluster of Random Plantness that looks kind of nervous and out of place, as though it realizes it does not bear a familial resemblance to anything nearby, AND if it has no flowers, buds, fruit, or other redeeming qualities, then my logic says FOE and it, too, must GO. (I often pray whilst dragging these sorts out of the ground that I am not destroying some rare herb whose seeds not only can cure cancer, but can banish diarrhea forever, change the hearts of public nose-pickers, and knock sense into politicians of our choosing. With my luck, the rare herb would be the last speciman of its kind, and there’d I’d be, making Zee Wondur Plantz extinct.)

This is where you come in. I have several Growing Things whom I am fairly certain are Unwelcome Guests in my garden, but I’m not certain enough to go in with my purple gardening gloves and completely decimate them, using their roots to floss my teeth…oh, wow, Sandi, waaaayy out of hand, here, girlfriend. Just breathe and stop right there, there’s a good girl.

This post’s mystery plant is here:

Weed or Wonder?

Weed or Wonder?

And that, my friends, is probably enough for now.

We have so much to catch up on: what I am spinning for this year’s Tour de Fleece, what I am attempting to knit, despite 7 rip-out sessions, a quilt or two to show off, and the fleeces that came with me to the new house.

Till then, just two Chispas for your entertainment and inspiration:

  • I hope this allays your fears. It also may bring to an end the careers of thousands of young adult dystopian end-of-the world authors. Sorry about that. That’s the way the cookie crumbles, I guess.
  • Read this. And then, because you will be powerless to resist, go ahead and read the entire thing from the beginning. Go ahead. We’ll wait. There’s no shame here, not really. Especially since I’ve read the entire series TWICE.

much love and hope,
Sandi

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What news heareth thee, pray tell?

Today is the first day since early November that I have been able to walk outside in short sleeves, no sweater or coat needed. It’s in the mid-forties Farenheit, but to most of the GTA, it feels as though Spring might actually happen.

To help move things along a little, I pieced together a brightly coloured block, and I mean eye-searingly bright.



Very Bright Quilt Square

Eventually, there will be other squares in similar colourways, and someday, there may even be a Quilt. Meanwhile, Melody and I are girding our loins for our next big adventure: We are thinking of buying a house.

Melody and I still want to go back to the States, but her job hunt hasn’t merited any cakes and wine this year. 

Add that to the fact that we finally have been granted Permanent Resident (PR) status in Canada, AND the fact that our landlords have chosen not to renew our lease (last day is June 30) so that they can sell the house, and well, there’s an invitation to Adventure if ever I heard one.

For the curious: PR status means we can stay in Canada indefinitely, with all the benefits other Canadians have—except, of course, that we cannot vote. We have to live in Canada 3 out of every 4 years (I think I’ve got that right), and we are eligible to apply for Canadian citizenship in about two years. 

I write that, and inside I’m shocked a bit: Wait a minute. We moved here temporarily. The Canadian Job Adventure was only supposed to last 2 years, max, and then we’d be on our way back home where we belong.

And now we’re permanent residents? Now we could be Canadian citizens in three years or so? What the hell happened?

Life happened, as usual. Blink your eyes, and Pow! Bang! Shazam! Life has showered you with magic arrows, all labelled “Surprise!”.

And this time, the final magic arrow said, “time to move house, you wacky kids!”

So we are going to our bank, and then seeing a mortgage broker (good to compare) and while Melody gets jerked around by deals with the traditional Toronto Universities’ Winter Strike, I have been glued to websites, scrolling through the “Properties for Sale” listings, looking for something we might be able to both tolerate and afford. (I am also looking at rentals, just in case.) We’re first-time buyers, and I have a little notebook full of advice from current homeowners: get your own inspector, shop for mortgages, research the neighbourhood, time the commute, find the grocery store, and so on. It’s pretty daunting, and we’re taking this at a slower pace than we’d like, simply because we are learning.

It is no wonder I am obsessed by House Quilts.







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Making 2015

First of all…

This is not me. This is a symbolic representation of my inner California girl attempting to hibernate. I figure: It's good enough for the California grizzly bears, must be good enough for me.

This is not me. This is a symbolic representation of my inner California girl,  attempting to hibernate. I figure: It’s good enough for the California grizzly bears, must be good enough for me.

Dear Tamara, I just want you to know that I did not actually dig a hole in the snowbank and tuck myself inside. I do love you and all my readers very much, but perhaps I am more hard-hearted than anyone realizes. Not only did I steal borrow that photo off the interwebs, but I stole borrowed it from someone who actually DID dig herself a hole and crawled into it. She, whomever she is, is the courageous and selfless one, the one with the wet coat, the icy jeans, and the adorable pink boots. I am the selfish one sitting here all cozy at my desk, dog on my feet, cat attempting to be a wrist rest. Also, alack and alas, I lack adorable pink boots. Thank you for having such a high opinion of me that you thought I might really have done such a selfless act, all in the name of a fuller blog experience for all you nice people. It saddens me that I am not quite THAT selfless. Please allow me to distract you from my shortcomings with pretty pictures of yarn and yarnly pursuits. Love, Sandi

Making

Usually, around this time of year, I do a wrap-up of the projects completed last year, and perform a quick peek into the crystal ball to see what I might do this year. So, I checked my project page, searched for the “end2014″ tag, and came up with ONE finished object: My Hiro cardigan.

Taken almost one year ago to the day: Jan 24, 2014.

Taken almost one year ago to the day: Jan 24, 2014.

I was knitting other things last year, I swear it. Really I was. Truly. I Did So Knit. As I look back, though, I realize that what I was actually doing was Sampling. I knit a bit on this, I cast on for that and knit on that for a bit, I did a sleeve here and a mitten there. Same with my spinning: I have at least a dozen spindles with a few ounces each of something fluffy and wonderful…but not completed. I travelled for nearly three months, and all along the way, I visited shop booth after shop booth, wandered from one yarn to another, and one spindle to another, as though the trip were one long Wool Buffet. It was Grand. Tons of fun. I have photos to show you of some of the goodies that jumped into my car from here to North Carolina.

However, I thought it might be fun to talk about the Eternal Now, you know, as in what I am working on today, heck, this week even. Live in the present and all that.

JB Basket small 4

That is a cowl. A big, chunky-wool, large-sized-needles, cowl. A gift cowl. A not-for-me-but-cozy-on-someone-else’s-neck-someday cowl. It’s not often I knit gifts for people. Oh, wait. That’s not true. I very often start knitting gifts for people, particularly the people I love. It is even possible that the closer I hold you in my heart, the more projects I will start for you. Finishing these acts of love, these handmade heart messages, well. That’s a different story.

However, this cowl has a Redeeming Saving Grace. The person I am making this for is someone whom I do not know well. I’ve met her, but I don’t know her. She’s a friend of Melody’s; Melody asked me to make this cowl for Z, so I’m making it. There is a Very Important Distinction here: I am making this for Someone Else, a near-stranger. I am NOT making this for Melody. That distinction is important, because the fact that the cowl is intended for a stranger quadruples its chances of an actual bind-off occurring in its near future. (Lucky cowl.)

The Usual Pertinent Details

– Pattern: #103 Lucscious Cabled Cowl (#SWB-L00103 is the mysterious code printed on the instructions)

– Source: SweaterBabe.com

– Yarn: Paton’s Shetland Chunky, 75% Acrylic, 25% Wool, 148 yds per ball.

– Needles: U.S. Size 10/6.0 mm circs, 24″, two sets.

– Number of skeins/balls required: I’m about a third of the way through and on my third ball of yarn. So, I’ll need probably 9-10 balls total. However, the pattern page says the entire cowl requires only 274 yds of Bulky yarn. I swear I’ve used 2.5 balls, or 370 yds already, of my teal green bulky yarn. I’ve done 4 repeats, the pattern calls for 12-13 repeats. If I have 8 repeats remaining, I will need about 555 more yards for a pattern which calls for only  274 yards.

Aren’t I clever, then?

C’mon, Sandi, You Made a Mod. Fess Up, We Know You Did.

Well, I may have modded. Probably. Oh, OK, I modified the pattern because I simply could not help my darn self. It’s a VERY simple patten, one which at first glance seems completely safe from any Sandi Meddling. One casts on at the back neck, knits back and forth in rows a length which wraps around the neck once or twice, and then one binds off. The beginning and the end are then grafted together, and there you have it, a beautiful smooshy cowl. It’s basically a lovely chunky scarf with its ends sewn together.

And that did it. That Word. That “Scarf” word. Perhaps you remember that Things Scarf and I are not on speaking terms for the rest of my life. Perhaps you may recall several posts along the way, wisely coming up with gentle, but pithy, epithets against Scarf, all things related to Scarf (those short straight needles that glow in the dark come to mind), and the horse Scarf rode in on.

candy squares

A Quilt is most Definitely Not A Scarf. Besides: I will never Confirm nor Deny that I am working on this Quilt.

Of course, once the word Scarf entered my head, I just couldn’t knit the darn thing. But the pattern (aside from its Inner Scarf qualities) is awesome and perfect. Thus (you see where this is headed, I am sure): I converted the Scarf Thing, knit back and forth in rows, to a Cowl Object, knit in the round. I had to finagle a reasonable stitch count, of course, and I had to get over my grief at not having every other row/round be a purl row/round, but I’m pretty much over both by now. Yes, the cables “point” up and down (vertically) rather than around and around (horizontally), but I think they look fine. Yes, one cannot do the double-wrap-around-the-neck trick that feels so cozy in the winter (minus 15C here today, how about you?). However, I am making the cowl long enough so that one can scrunch it down around one’s neck and chin, or, should one’s balding pate be chilly, one can tug the top of the cowl up and over one’s head, covering one’s stylish baldness and lending an air of Medieval Monkishness to one’s personal winter fashion choices.

So that’s One Project I am working on. I am trying to focus my magpie desires a bit this year, working on only one knitting project (socks don’t count, do they?), one quilting project, one spinning project, and so on, thereby increasing my chances of having more than one object with the “end2015″ tag affixed to it in my project pages.

Chispas

1. Discuss: 2014-02-21 all cats have Asp

2. Fascinating Science: The Halfsider Bird. It’s not a male. It’s not a female. It’s not a neuter. It’s half male, half female. Somehow. Yes, really.

3. Traditional Bloggy Dose of Baby Cuteness

baby lambgoat in arms

Quick quiz: Sheep or Goat? Regardless: Belleh rub!

4. In Which Rants Are Fun: It’s amusing (sometimes…) to rant at the sexist clothing industry, which, in order to preserve a clear view of womanly sexy curves, plus any sexy womanly panty lines, refuses to put pockets in women’s clothing. This pocket-lack frequently leads to women being without  the correct Useful Tool at the correct Useful Time (have you tried to find anything in your purse lately? Quickly, I mean?). Ladies, I give you Our Revenge.

Last but never least: Tim crawled into one of my handknit cowls the other day, tried for three seconds to wiggle out, and then realized he had discovered paradise: a blankie he could carry around with him, from one heater vent to the next.

office help w cowl There you have it, an actual Real Blog Post, organically grown right here in Bolton, Ontario, Canada. Be well. Laugh as much as you can. Love always.

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Dear Flannery

Hi there, Flannery! I hope you still remember me; we met at SAFF in Asheville, NC, a few months back. I didn’t get much of a chance to chat back then, as it was a fibre festival and there were silk fumes and all. However, despite all the Oooh Shiny around us, you made a big impression on me, and I just wanted to let you know I’ve been thinking about you ever since we met.

I didn’t even get a photo with you. HOW LAMEOID IS THAT?

Here’s a photo of me, in an attempt to set the balance of the universe right again.

selfie

I thought that since I haven’t posted in a while, it might be fun to start off the new year with a gratitude: Even though we only had a few minutes when we met, Ms. Flannery, that few moments with you made a big difference for me; my first gratitude of 2015 is therefore for a young woman named Flannery who lives somewhere in the NC area; I think you know who you are. I still smile when I think of you.

alpaca chullo

This little dudette also makes me smile. She has two chullo hats just her size. Note the ear openings…

 

You see, meeting you helped to personalize this blog thang that I do, or rather don’t do as much as I might like. Real people read these words. Some people, not knowing what happened to me after I left Interweave, have spent considerable amounts of time looking for me, and they send me delighted emails when they find this blog. And I am so sad that 2014 has largely been one big huge Writer’s Block for me. I’ve struggled with this quite a bit, as most of you know, and it’s getting to the point where I feel like part of me is missing because I am not posting.

Gotta admit that I am rather tired of that particular feeling. Plus, my trip down south introduced me to Flannery, and a few others whom I’ll introduce to you as we go along; folks who reminded me that when I let go of something that is a joy for me, I am, in a way, abandoning the friends and family around me who connect to that joy as well.

The main floor of the arena at SAFF/NC. Yes, I am taking the photo from the second story of booths. Yes, it is HUGE.

The main floor of the arena at SAFF/NC. Yes, I am taking the photo from the second story of booths. Yes, it is HUGE.

However, new year, new possibilities. I realized today that I was starting to pull back into my winter hermitage, and that was certainly no fun last year, so I’m trying something different. I’m making a calendar for myself for blog post topics, and There Will Be A New Post Once a Week. I will pick a publishing day-of-the-week, and try to stick to that as if I had my editor standing at my desk, pointing at her watch, tapping her foot, reciting “blueline, blueline” in a pseudo-patient voice. (“Blueline” is when the staff of a magazine get the proofs from the publishing house and have their absolutely last chance to get things corrected or inserted before the copy goes to press.)

We’ll see how it goes. My intentions are (gently) focused on that goal, and I really think any efforts in this direction are going to help. Better than not trying, right?

Goodbye 2014

It’s been two months solid of zoomzoom here at Chez Sandita, and here January 1, 2015, was five days ago, and I would very much like to know where the heck December 2014 went, if you don’t mind me asking.

I think I missed December. Plus, I'm getting my new purple coat all wet.

I think I missed December. Plus, I’m getting my new purple coat all wet.

I vaguely remember doctor appointments. And the UPS folks constantly ringing our bell. Windstorms. Wearing two pairs of socks day after day, only to have yet two more pairs develop Holes in them from overuse. (I think I must have Velociraptor claws on my heels.)

I got The Flu on Dec. 23, which is a brilliant way of guaranteeing one’s Christmas will be spent on the sofa with not only one box of tissues, but a backup box under the table, as well as a bag of menthol suckie candies and approving Cat Overlords draped on top of one (“STAY, human, stay. You are finally in your proper role as Cat Mattress Heater. Never get up.”)

I was too sick to open presents. I ate a little turkey, a little homemade cranberry sauce, a little pie, then it was back to the sofa with me.

I slept for five days straight. Even now, ten days later, if I try and do much of anything, like, oh, go to church, or have lunch with someone, I end up falling asleep on the sofa again afterwards. Apparently, this flu is the Popular Flu going around this year, and the sleeping thing just goes on and on for a couple of weeks or more. (Imagine my elation upon hearing this.)

I slept through Christmas, more or less. The first time I felt conscious enough to open the gifts under the tree was New Year’s Eve, in fact. It was kind of a fun way to spend NYE, what with the dog and cats playing with the coloured paper, and TimCat and ZoëCat having to personally inspect every box-like item.

a fine tree indeed

We have an adorable tree, one which ended up decorated in a “woodland/farmland animal” theme, with hedgehogs and sheep and moose and mice and bears; even the above needle-felted alpaca I bought at SAFF found herself a place on the tree.

alpaca hedgehog moose

All right, 2015, here we come. Hope you have some goodness in store for all of us this year.

Chispas

  • Life too stressful? Watch this.

  • The Wave Organ. I truly regret not ever visiting this when I lived nearby. (People! Visit Cool Things In Your Backyard!)
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Off-roading it a bit

Scenic pullout in Massachusetts along Hwy 9

Scenic pullout in Massachusetts along Hwy 9

Sometimes, a journey has a specific Plan: go here, stay there, see these people, leave next day for somewhere else.

Such were my wanderings, more or less, up until yesterday morning, Wed the 12th.  I had my last scheduled dinner Tuesday night with a much-loved friend, and Wed morning at ten o’clock, I still hadn’t made up my mind: I very much wanted to visit Salem, Mass, a second time. I could also see friends in Reading if I went That Way.

I’m having trouble posting pics for you. Darn blogging app. And the regular in-browser editor is wonky, too. Sorry about that. I’ll try to put a few at the end.

I could drive the normal (?) way home, stopping in Syracuse to see friends there.

Or…I kind of wanted to try something one of my Naomi friends had suggested: Enter a destination, vague, like Canadian Border. Then, disallow toll roads. (This works best in a place like New England that is cluttered with collection booths).

Then hit “go”…and see what happens.

What happened for me was that Barbie (my GPS voice) took me from Main Street, Northampton, along a few minor highways heading rather north-ish, to Hwy 87N.

Hwy 87N has no tolls…and barely any traffic. It took me high up into the Adirondack Mountains, so I could see treestreestrees, and lakes, and quaint homes and farms of every description.

The air was fresh, like it is in a real forest of a certain size. Chilly, with the clearest, brightest sunshine. Many of the leaves had turned and fallen already, but there was an occasional tree clad in an emperor’s royal red that took my breath away.

Thank you, Barbie. The scenery was well worth the extra two to three hours of driving.

Unfortunately, it was so curvy with many Unexpected Trucks that I didn’t get a chance to pull over and take photos. ::sadface::

I stopped for the night after about six hours of driving, got myself checked into a hotel (I boldly walked up to the desk at 5 pm asking if they had an open room for the night—que cajones!), and went to throw open the curtains just to see what’s out there.

This time, “what’s out there” happened to be a Canadian border crossing, literally about two blocks from my bedroom.

I had no clue that I was that close.

So today, Thurs the 13th, I enter Canada via Quebec, and drive for a while through a lovely province I have heard so much about. Another stop tonight, and then, midday Friday: Home.

Not all who wander are lost, you see.

Who’s that?

Who the heck has climbed into my purple Namaste bag?

Who the heck has climbed into my purple Namaste bag?

That sure isn’t Truffles, my usual Travelling Companion.

Whoever they are, they’ve snuck into my purple purse and cuddled themselves into my favorite storebought cashmere sweater.

Now, who do you think would have the heart of mischief required to do such a thing?

I guess we’ll all just have to wait until next post to find out.

P. S. This is my 200th post since I switched to WordPress. Yay!

 

 

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Travelling woman

Since I last posted (from NY? No clue), I have driven All the Miles and stayed either with peeps or in hotels. I now have a fave hotel chain, a statement that reflects just how many chains I have tried.

 

IMG_7734.JPG

First place goes to Country Inn & Suites, for overall sparkling cleanliness, price deals, breakfast quality, and bed comfiness. Second place (close on heels!) is Hampton Inn & Suites, for all the same reasons. Just a wee bit of travel insight in case you haven’t had the chance to try umpty-three chains yourself. You’re welcome.

I am currently in Utterly Gorgeous North Carolina. I was fortunate enough to be able to attend one of the best fiber festivals in my experience: SAFF, South-Eastern Animal Fiber Festival (or similar, I will look it up when I have internet to post this post).

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The setting is beautiful. But check this out:

IMG_7727.JPG

It’s Rhinebeck South!

That’s the inside of the main building. Booths are in a ring around the edges, and then in a central oval, with booths facing the booths on the edge. (but wait! there’s more!)

If you go up the stairs to the snacks and restrooms ring at the top of the stadium, there are MORE booths all along that second-floor walkway.

Go outside, cross the parking lot, and you will find a second building, a barn will a similar ringed arrangement.

Which I did not take a picture of. :)

Cross a gravel road, and you are at the animal barns.

Which is where I met the fine fellow whose photo is at the end of this post. He won Grand Champion, and from his bearing and noble eyes, you can tell he knows it. However, he is a true champion, humble and courteous, so he will not think himself better than you. In fact, Himself was not above giving the Paca Princess a few kisses on her nose.

There’s more to tell, the past week down here has brought me friendships both new and renewed, so there are people to introduce and pictures of a five-day-old cria for you to coo over.

However, checkout time looms, and it’s time to find a route and get on the road.

More later, I promise.

I am trying to find a way to post multiple photos in a place you can see them ( I still have a flikr acct, hm), but in the meantime:

I have joined the Instagram crowd, user sandiwiseheart, and I am posting daily as much as possible there. (If you don’t know Instagram from an app-in-the-wall, it is basically photo-sharing, one at a time, with captions. Usually folks like me post only one pic a day or so, so it isn’t overwhelming).

Love and llama kisses!

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Two days before Rhinebeck

 

I am so fortunate to be here.

I am so fortunate to be here.

I left it as a large photo because this place is beyond awesome. I’m in a town in the hills just outside of Syracuse, waaayyy upupup. My awesome hosts, friends of a friend, offered to let me stay in their loft the week between Stitches East and Rhinebeck. I am completely captivated by the surroundings, and by my charming hosts.

Hold on… Perhaps I ought to back up a bit to fill you in.

I’ve been thinking about a “Fall Tour, East Coast Version” for a while, and when my friend Jen, the superhero indie dyer behind Holiday Yarns, invited me to be a booth babe at a couple of the fall shows, I, not being an idiot, said Holy Stitchmarkers, Batman: YES.

Gotham City Skyline Socks, designed by Melanie Matos. Kit & Pattern available from Holiday Yarns.

Gotham City Skyline Socks, designed by Melanie Matos. Kit & Pattern available from Holiday Yarns.

Tuesday, Oct 7th, I drove to Syracuse, NY, where Jen’s dye studio is. Last-minute Happenings ended with me joining Susan, owner/operator of The Yarn Cupboard in Jamesville, for dinner…at her mother’s house in Jamesville with sisters, Mama, and a cousin or two all around the table.

They’re Italian. Mama had made a pasta dish with some kind of (delicious) meatballs, and there was HOME MADE canneloni for desert.

I really do have pictures of canneloni and cookies! Patience

Turns out that one of the sisters is trained as a pastry chef, and owned her own bakery for years.

I like Susan’s family.

Because time is of the essence right now, I will post more pics and words(!) about all these ongoing Hi-jinks as I get seconds to sit down and tap the keys. 

After a lovely sleep in Susan’s guest room (she trusted me enough to leave me alone with both her yarn stash And her quilting sash…now THAT’s trust), Jen, assistant dyer Melanie, and Colorful Personality Minion (that’s me) set off for Stitches East, held in beautiful-but-impossible-to-navigate (especially with a marathon running right down the main streets, causing detours and nice, capable cops trying to stay polite whilst giving alternate routes to people who are shaky-at-best on the original routes.

Until I have more time to tell stories and introduce folks properly, how about a few photos to tell some of the story for me?

Ummm…my iPad is having hissy fits about those pics. The internet here fails to acknowledge me sometimes, so how about some STUNNING Stitches pic later? GAH. 

I promise there will be Yarn Pr0n, on my honour.

Where am I headed today after I tear myself away from paradise up here?

Rhinebeck!!

I hope to see you there. I have the honour of being the sales minion for jessalu’s bags, sold at the Holiday Yarns booth…

on beyond the Yarn Beyond!

Sandi

ps linking isn’t working properly either.  Doomed.

Note: obviously, I wrote this post last week, and I have more adventures to share. The reason this is posting so late has to do with Inconsistent Internet. But I’ll keep trying when I find a decent hotel room or a starbucks. I love Panera, but it’s internet is a tad wonky at times.

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