I actually managed to get out of the house today while the sun was shining for a little much-needed fiber therapy. Of course, the best place for that is Sheep Street. It's a long hike from my place, but it's always worth it. When I arrived, I couldn't help but stop and say hello to the ladies in the assisted-living pasture. They asked that I give their regards to Sophia and the other Golden Girls, then as I turned I heard them gossiping about who belonged to who and whether or not Blanche was married. I left them to it.
I didn't have time for chit chat. I had training to do. With Angie as my coach and Pirate, the cat, as the official judge I performed my first ever solo run at knitting.
So ladies, those of you participating in Yarn Harlot's knitting olympics, look out. All I need is to work on my finesse. Four years from now, I may be a contender.
(Can you believe that Pirate lives in a yarn store and never bothers anything? I was home two minutes and Ethel was all over my ball of yarn. I may have to lock her in a room. Or me.)