Last weekend JungleJim and I went up to Jerome for the day. Lovely little town, we saw a glass blower blowing glass. Lots of little pubs with scores of motorcycles parked in front. I cannot help but think of Pee Wee Herman whenever I see a gaggle of motorcycles. In addition to the bikes, pubs, and glass, we also happened upon a lovely yarn shop called Knit 1 Bead 2. Gee, imagine my surprise! (Ok, I wasn’t surprised, I suggested Jerome specifically to hit the LYS.) We spent about 30 minutes milling around before we left. *GASP* No purchase? Huh? We were hungry, what can I say.
We trudged up a steep hill and had lunch at a restaurant called The Asylum. Now, I love Halloween as much as the next person, but obviously not as much as the people at The Asylum. Maybe I’ve become prudish and too uptight in my old age, but COME ON. This was a RESTAURANT! There were gory and gross decorations all over the place. All over. To make matters worse, the obnoxious grody people at the table next to us positively stunk to high heaven. And when I say stunk, I mean they smelled like dirty truckers who have been on the road for three days straight without a shower, and nothing but the Thunder Mug to keep them company. Anyway. The food was excellent, so I shall stop complaining.
On our way back down the hill I felt some mysterious force pulling, nay, grabbing me, compelling me forward towards the yarn store. Here is another fine example of JungleJim’s marvelous self. We went back to the yarn store and spent maybe 45 minutes there while I tried to find something. He encouraged me to find some yarn, what a guy. The ONLY thing that disturbed me about him being there with me was that he kept asking me to knit him a sweater. You read that right. JungleJim, who is not yet my husband, not even officially my fiancé, asked me to knit him a sweater. Of course I said no. He even knows about The Sweater Curse and yet persists in asking me to knit him a sweater. So I did what any smart lass would do. I smiled sweetly and said sure I would, but he had to buy the yarn. He agreed and said he wanted black. Fine. So I found the most luscious, scrumptious, expensive cashmere in the store and handed one skein to him. He said “Honey, this will knit a whole sweater?” I said no, we’d need about 15 skeins. His quick math told him the sweater would cost nearly $200. He put it back. Saved!
I finally found three skeins of Manos del Uruguay that called my name. Since I’m going to Detroit next week I need a hat and scarf. Here’s the scarf so far, it’s a Dream Swatch Head Wrap Thing from the always lovely Knit and Tonic. Not sure about the hat, so if anyone has a quick and easy hat pattern, I’m open to suggestions.
I’d also like to finally give some love to Artsygal, whose gorgeous laceweight Wine and Chocolate you see here on the needles. It’s the ball on the left. Propping up the needles is a ball of something the name of which I forget, but it’s the edge of my Random Lace project. But wait! What is Random Lace? Random Lace is lace for people like me who can’t figure out or manage to create lace from a pattern. There’s a lovely woman here in my fair city who blogs at LusciousGracious.com, and she was kind enough to put up her Random Lace Tutorial. Nice! I’m a firm believer in doing things My Way, so Random Lace really appeals to me.
All right, lovelies, that’s all. I’d also like to take this opportunity to remind any of my male readers to check your balls. A good friend of mine recently underwent surgery to remove a cancerous growth that took over his testicle. He’s having chemo as I type, and I bet it ain’t fun. So as Tom Greene sang, love your balls, feel your balls. (But please don’t tell me about it afterwards.)
AND! Oh happy day, I cannot wait to see Stranger Than Fiction. I love you, Tony Hale!