a good yarn goes home

It's amazing. I made the trip home in near-record time. The scary fuel monitor on Bill's Jeep completely freaked me out four miles before the exit I was GOING to take ANYWAY, so there was a little prayin' an' barganin' with " oh, sweet Jesus, just let me get to the Thornton's station and I'll really, REALLY try to be good" and various other attempts to get the gas thing to not leave me stranded on the freeway off-ramp. This morning Bill left for work at 4:45 and with him were six skeins of alpaca that I'd been selfishly hoarding. When purchased I KNEW they should be Rhonda's, as she knits such lovely lace patterns, but I kept holding out... I REALLY wanted the yummy, caramel and toffee colored luvvies for myself. Selfish, rotten knitter. I do hear by swear that I will no longer viciously hoard the stash. Mostly. Unless incapacitated by mental illness or sleep deprivation. And speaking of, I've noticed that my posts seem to be time-tagged at ghastly hours of the morning. That is a falsehood. This bloggy-blog-blog appears to be posted FOUR HOURS before it actually occurs... I just didn't want anyone who knows me to think I was really mentally ill for being able to type before noon. Except today, since I've been up since 3:38 with a sinus headache. I came home last night to the cottonwood and aspen trees pollinating, so today I'm staying in my jammies and I'm knitting the monkey socks, which I fell in lust with in Lex yesterday. Lotusknitter had them at the gathering of the Harlot's faithful. More on the incredible women I met yesterday after the coffee kicks in... and the percocet... and possibly a G&T, if the pain meds don't cooperate.