Fiber Raven Soiree

A Punny Thing

(to the tune of Blues in the Night)

My Momma done tol' me when I was in kneepants
My Momma done tol' me Hon-- Some day you will grow up
And marry the Gray One and you'll have all kinds of fun
Then he'll start with the funny
and every night or in the daylight
he will bruise you with puns.

You'll be sittin' there knittin' and pettin' the kitten
but when the knittin' is done
he'll start with the funny
And every night or in the daylight
he will bruise you with puns.

Oh yeah, Momma was right. I wake up slowly with Sherlock on my head. Gray One comes in, says

There's a dog on your head. That give me paws for concern.

Sounds like a tail to me.

That might be a fo'paw.

You're barking up the wrong tree.

Fur sure.

Don't think I'm gonna just roll over.

Let's cut to the chase.

It gets worse from there, but the laughter is good for the soul.

It was a delight to have Janine over yesterday to Happy Holler. We knit the afternoon away. Well, she knit and I mostly made mistakes. One day I will learn to knit and talk at the same time. Nevertheless, I made a bit of progress on Eyork (Elizabeth of York) while Sherlock and Ginger made her feel like one of the family.

And the little treasure bag is so cute (not done of course!).

I think it would be fun to make a big treasure bag. But the little one has you stringing 2300 beads before you begin, so I cannot imagine the number of beads that would be required for a bigger one. Still, it would be fun. The beads here are knit into every single row, so that the bag is beaded both inside and outside. When finished, the bag is only about three inches high, so the treasure you put inside needs to be of the small variety.

DaCapo will have to wait until after EYork is finished for MS&W. Here is the back, though, in all its gargantuan garter glory.

Mrs Cravitz across the street has been having meetings of some sort at her house. Several ladies will pull their cars up into and around her driveway and look around, then go inside. I wonder what they're up to. Oh yes, they seem like normal retirement-age women, but you don't know Mrs. Cravitz. I suspect a ladies' terrorist society is planning its next move while munching on coffee cake behind closed drapes.

She practices by walking her innocuous-looking golden retriever past my house on the trail. I don't know what she says to Harvey and Grazzi, but they get very upset and start barking retorts and counter-challenges. Mrs. Cravitz has over one hundred rose bushes in her front lawn and keeps all the white labels on them. Doesn't this sound suspicious to you?