Well. Greg is gone – off for a few months of tech training that will, we hope, qualify him for a job that will have us sticking around here for a few years. Wait, did I say hope? I mean – well – I’m confused. We had better move somewhere fun after this – and by fun, I mean someplace where the leaves change colors, and it might snow once in a while, and you can play outside in the summer during daylight hours, and you don’t have scorpions in your bathroom. That kind of a place.
Anyway, my older sister has agreed to come and stay with me while he’s gone, to keep me company. She may (if she so chooses) be featured on the blog at some point. Since she’s here and all. I’ve been very busy since Greg left on Sunday working on a (non-yarny) project and various pressing issues, but I haven’t gotten much done – of the wooly variety at least.
While the four of us were out yesterday, we stopped by the thrift shop ‘just for a minute.’ I started poking through the sweaters. Like ya doooo. My sister may have voiced a comment disparaging my mental soundness as I scoured the racks, but then I shoved this into her hands:
And she said, “Ohhhhhhh.” No more giggles from her! Isn’t that color gorgeous? Well, you can’t really see it, but I love it. It’s not so brown, much greener. I may replace that pic later. It’s like…it’s like a forest green heather, one of my all-time favorite of the colors. I love it way more than I love the sage-y seafoam of the other one, and I like that a lot. And, of course, it’s 100% cashmere. What? No! Stop it. Be quiet – what do you want from me, it was two dollars! You think I could just leave it there? I turned my face from the wool, the lambswool and angora blends – even the angora and silk blend! So what if I don’t have the other sweater wound yet – I do have it frogged, just not wound and weighed and washed. I will. It’s not like I’m going to start this one before I finish the other, I just had to get it. It’s a sickness. No, thank you, an intervention is neither welcome nor necessary. No! Don’t even think it. If you try to get between me and that sweater, I can’t be held responsible for my actions.
Keep your hands out of my cashmere. I’ve got a seam ripper, and I will cut you.