Well, one of my almosts (Labour Day weekend fling) called, came over, stayed, helped put calendula on my rug burns this morning.† We're not flinging so much this weekend,% as he has a gig DJing a wedding in the mountains, but we may have Sunday dinner.
[SUMMARY: There is more to life than fibre. However, it better come with a paper umbrella or a lively tongue.^]
I did take pictures of all sorts of fibre-related stuff, but The Fling¶ called just as I was finishing the photo shoot and I had to do a quick sweep (literally and figuratively) to bring Chez Barfly up to code.
Thus, I didn't have time to upload pictures.
And I was running a little later than usual this morning.
So maybe tomorrow.
[SUMMARY: Buck up, little blogketeers -- knitting pictures will make it all better.]
As I initiated him (hence the blogtitle) into the concept of KNITTER!!! yesterday evening... last night... this morning...
...there were little knitterly somethings that came out of the evening§ I know y'all can appreciate:
First, The Fling is very, very impressed with my knitting. He asked, so I showed and eventually he was digging through my pile of knitting asking about various projects. He cooed over the Tulip Sweater# and is in awe of Lizard Ridge ("No way! You did this?"). Points for The Fling.
Second, The Fling is a little frightened at the quantity of yarn,$ but generally seems to see it all as potential knitted goods, which is better visualisation than I can crank up for much of my stash. His overall support and faith gains extra points.
Third, I think he may have hinted for a scarf. We were lounging on the deck this morning just before he left and he said, rather out of the blue, "I'm looking forward to snow. I like the clothes. I like jackets and mittens... all of it. Scarves. I *really* like scarves."
[SUMMARY: Four out of five knitters surveyed prefer fibre-friendly men for their bodies that want men.]
While I know that most of y'all voted for me to stay home with the rice-eating cat until something better came along, I think you can see why The Fling was an excellent (if interim) second choice.
[SUMMARY: Well done.]
So I was at Sunflower Market yesterday, picking up some Olathe sweet corn to grill and some sundry food items, when what to my wondering ears should appear? The "Wear Your Love Like Heaven" song, which is insidious in the extreme, but I gave myself the gigglesnorts singing...
...you know it...
...sing along with me...
"Wear your duh like heaven."
[SUMMARY: Wham! Wham! Wham! on the dead horse.]
OK, now I can't get that fucking song out of my head.
Quick! Someone sing "My Baby Takes the Morning Train"!
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Too much information? Sorry, I'll never mention my calendula addiction again.
%FOOTNOTE (percented): I almost had a fling for the holiday weekend...
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): As wholesome as rug burns get.
^FOOTNOTE (careted): Get your mind out of the gutter. He's a particularly lively conversationalist. And his dick is *huge*.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): ...night... morning... oops! I did it again!
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): I don't know how he could be anything but, really. He turned 33 a week after I turned 40. So young, so succulent, so inappropriate... *sigh*
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): I know what you're thinking ('specially Brother, who has been witness to more than one closeted, repressed, that-river-in-Egypt gay boyfriend of mine), but he has a four-year-old daughter. He's allowed to coo over tiny little clothes.
$FOOTNOTE (moneyed): Darlings, he only saw the small pile in front of the powder room and the projects on needles. He hasn't been in the yarn room yet.
Today's footnotes are brought to you by the letters X and Q, the number 4 and Chris's smartass comments.