Happy Christmas, y'all!

I'm over the hat thing. The one photo I managed to get of three of the four 'first hats' is on my phone, and it's not great. However, they mostly looked like this one on Miss Amanda Croucher's head. She's a new knitter, taught in the local pub. A hat on dpns was her first project, and she did a bang-up job.

So, what does the adorable and intrepid new knitter gift her knitting sensei with for the holidays?

Oh, hell's yeah.
That Croucher might just be the teacher's pet. Fabulous whiskey and fun company made yesterday one of the most pleasant knit-ins ever... well, and the 'Red Velvet Elvis' cupcake from The Flying Cupcake. That may have played a part...yum!

In the paranormal romance corner, the latest from our favorite local author was dropped by yesterday for a thorough going-over. Post-It flags at the ready. I'm looking forward to my holiday edit.
Now, to get back to my quiet Christmas Eve day here at Clementine's.
And, yeah, the Black Bush is at hand, for knitting emergencies, you understand.
Have a happy ho ho ho, y'all!

dirty, sexy knitting

Another day, another bout of knitting ennui. Four hats in three days nearly did me in, but I don't get to stop. This train to knitting hell has a few more stops to make before I work the button tab hat out of my system. To change things up, I'm doing a 'turn a square' hat as well. No charming button tab to lure me to the big finish, but I do love me some raglan decreases. Monday/Tuesday Mandi has decreed that Mr. Hottie UPS Man needs a Christmas cap as well... *sigh*
My bloodied and broken fingers need to get back to work.

A shipment of Opal sock yarn arrived today. It was all "ooohs" and "aaaahs" as I unpacked it. Gorgeous stuff. I confess I look forward to new Opal far more than any other yarn in the shop.

I was fine till I noticed the accordion with huge bosoms splayed above it, then the Snow White-style corset...the baby-doll nightie, and then (so good I just HAD to show you here), the pink Tyrolean rig... really? Sex on a yarn label? Come on.
Then I thought about it a while. Sex sells. Of course it does. And isn't that your first thought when you look at a ball of sock yarn?
Apparently, it should be.

lil' miss saturday night

So, there was a new shipment of needles what arrived at Clementine's yesterday. Everytime a reorder was placed, I cringed a little inside, because I knew this day had to come.
The day of reckoning with the inventory lists.
It is upon me.

I spent a small portion of the workday swapping out titles of things, because as obvious as I thought I was being, not everyone looks at a package of Crystal Palace bamboo double point needles and thinks "BAM NDL" when ringing up a sale. Now they are all listed as CP and the 'whatever it is', like 8" dpn sz7.

Perfectly reasonable. And prolly a damned sight easier than trying to explain why other brands of bamboo needles weren't BAM NDL.

And to think I thought this would be simple. Go on. Go be crafty. I haz more typen to do...

Dear Clementine...

As some of you know, Thursdays are my cut-loose night. Eshewing a proper 'knit-night', I have instead taken up belly dancing and whiskey. A fair trade, one leaving me both more flexible and relaxed where concerns of commerce are concerned. In my stead, and again addressing issues of commerce in this era of a democratically elected(?) recession, Clementine's hours have been extended to 8 p.m. on Thursday evenings. The addition of Robin L., crafty chica extraordinaire, has made this possible.
Some evenings she has a stack of stuff to stay occupied with. There's always fat qwattahs waiting cutting, and her eye for detail and color is a much appreciated jewel in Clem's tiara. Last night, as I dashed from the building, I dumped the four-patch doll quilt blocks in her lap. Hey. Back off. She asked what I needed help with, and this is a pressing matter of some import. I came in this morning to find this letter laying atop the cutting table, along with a partially assembled quilt:

It is now 10:15 p.m. and Robin is preparing to leave the building. Her religion left about 90 minutes ago.
Having discovered that she did not have her reading glasses, she felt sure her major difficulty in piecing a doll quilt would be her inability to see clearly while sewing. That was not the case. Apparently, Robin was dropped on her head as a baby and the damage done has been very slowly taking away her ability to put together colors in a random fashion, for, try as she might, she cannot produce a pleasing composition without having two of the same fabrics next to one another. Not normally a quitter, she is throwing in the towel on this one. Perhaps after consuming a sufficient amount of gingerbread lattes from Starbucks (or rum from her own cupboard)-possibly, nay, likely, both, she will recover her dignity along with the ability to construct a sentence with more skill than an ESL student. She holds hope in her heart that she will cease referring to herself in the third person, too. She hopes you have a lovely day. Feel free to leave the quilt top to be finished next week. Robin feels that consuming the Bacardi before she begins sewing may well do the trick. Thank you and goodnight.
p.s. there's water in the iron.

So there you have it. I have driven another soul to the demon liquor. Of course, I cannot in good conscience leave the quilt top to her ministrations now, without appearing both callous and spiteful...
unless...
unless I leave a fresh bottle of rum next to it.

busy, busy

Up and coming project at Clementine's... Miss Deb has made the shop sample and come February, we're running with it. Fast, easy, and fun. "Child labor in third-world countries" easy. Practice sewing your straight seams, 'cuz you're gonna wanna play with us. Workshop date to be announced. Start collecting your fat qwattahs now...

For the last-minute-lucys out there... the gift of socks is always a good idea. I made it simple, with yarn, pattern, and needles all in a bag. Fits easily into most stockings. I know the idea of shoving sock yarn into another sock should be appalling, but I just can't seem to work up a good rile against it, so I'm coming out to say I'm all for it, and irony be damned. As these are 'some assembly required' (okay, all assembly required, geesh!), they are so much more than the temporary thrill that comes from stripping off the wrapping paper. Give the gift of craft to someone you love this year. It'll last a lifetime.

It seems there was a little mix-up at the Michael Miller warehouse this past week, and a wee bit of the Paula Prass I ordered back in the summer finally shipped out. The 'feature' fabrics aren't here, but what did arrive is so darned fabulous, I'm not even caring about those birds. Aprons, pajama pants, bright and bold quilt blocks... this stuff is so much fun I'll prolly have to bust out the sewing machine this week...

especially for some lime green and aqua Eiffel Tower lounge pants. (above, fourth from left. drool.) This sewing, of course, will come after I finish the wee dolly quilt for stuntknittahredrhonda's daughter.

Perhaps I'll come up for air again before Christmas hits.
If you don't hear from me, send cookies. Lots and lots of cookies.
It's my holiday coping mechanism.

progress report

hello? is this thing on? didn't mean to fall down a rabbit hole, but the home computer wheezed it's last the other night... there's a whole story about a stink like burning band-aids and computer shopping with a kid whose jacket smelled like cat urine, but that'll have to keep for later. for now, lemme show you this:

the 'serendipity scarf' ala cami. yeah. i had to start one. addictive. to the point of pain. winter coat a sedate charcoal wool. this scarf will stand and holla, y'all. i giggle every time i pick it up. that's actually a good thing.

down here, the 'authentic' collection from sweetwater. yeah, it's moda. yeah, they mostly are damnable fiends for not reprinting their fabrics (thusly ensuring widespread panic and manic stashing amongst quilters when new lines are released)... much as i hate to admit it, this line sucked me in. here while it lasts. and yep. that is a bundle of all 34 fats.

here is monday/tuesday mandi. hauled her out to lunch at my new favorite place evah, the irish lion, in bloomington. we only tried four whiskys for lunch. she's a little lit in this pic. some yarn shopping happened, as well. somehow yarn spun from waste silk off the floor of an indian sari sweatshop ended up in my possession. no, you cannot see it... yet. people turn 60 this year, and they are nosy, greedy beings. i will not have my surprises thwarted.

new opal. there is, of course, way more than these few colorways, and another collection ships soon. selling the daylights out of the scarf kits, so clementine's opal consumption is way up. keeping a few balls of all the new stuff on the shelf, though, for the die-hard socksters out there.

time to get out the door. you go be crafty. smooches, pooches. c

Go look, but don't say I didn't warn you...

Nothing good can come of dancing in public with duck feathers strapped to one's head, but do I listen? Of course not. Would I do it again? Most likely. This was to be my 'year of living dangerously', was it not?
Your curiousity is showing... go on. Have a look. I'll wait here.

p.s. Those scarf kits from two posts ago? Flying out the door! A HUGE thank you to Redrhonda for her superior stunt-knitting skilz, and to all the faithful/hopeful/cursed knitters who can't wait to make their own version... no two will ever look alike. Kind of cool when you consider how cookie-cutter some projects knit up. Release your inner Bohemian. Get one on the needles now. C

Haunted Hips Hafla

Because I know that really good opportunities to embarrass ones own self come so rarely, and if I'm to make a spectacle of myself I'd much prefer a sympathetic audience, and because I get to see Anna so damned infrequently...
well, here's the info.

(Please use it for evil. I know you can.)

'Haunted Hips' hafla to be held Saturday, Oct. 17th at the
Imagine School's auditorium
2000 N. Wells St.
Ft. Wayne, IN. 46808

Festivities begin at 7:00 p.m. and admission is five bucks. Herr Becher and all assorted chirruns are coming to see what's the fuss with Frau Becher's new hobby. You can't possibly imagine what shenanigans we're up to, so come see for yourself. I. Dare. You.

bwahahahah

Serendipity scarf

Redrhonda has been doing a bit of stunt-knitting for Clementine again. This time it was a reprisal of the mitered squares, ala 'modern quilt wrap', bit with less agonizing over color placement and those dreadfully wispy 'Kidsilk' ends to tangle with. Making it's debut and available already kitted up, the scarf in nine different 'Opal' self-striping yarns.

You either love it or hate it... but I personally think it's drool-worthy. This is also hyphen-day, apparently, so gaze on this beauty for a few moments and when you decide you can't live without it, call me. The kits are ready to mail out immediately.

as you requested...

Seeing as how I'm not one to stand in the way of a girl and her cloth, here are the pics of the "Love" collection, the latest from Amy Butler. I can't express my relief at seeing a bright palette again.
The colors are richly saturated, with an unfussy, modern Balinese flavor...

Much to love about "Love". I'm hoping to make a fun 'English strippy' nap quilt from these. All of them. At once. Yeah, baby.
The latest colors to arrive from 'The Fibre Company'. This is "Road to China Light", a blend of baby alpaca, silk, cashmere, and camel. Bettah than buttah. It's naked yarn. Don't be coy. You know what I mean. Just one skein will make a decadent neck warmer, something to snug down into and nuzzle. Don't miss playing with this yarn!

Project updates: the 'pickle' scarf is on it's last ball of yarn, but the 'Feb. Lady' has taken over. Mine has been re-dubbed 'The Dragon Lady', as I've found the coolest pewter Celtic dragon clasps to close her up with. Button holes are not my friend, as evidenced by a wretched button hole swatch I killed the better part of a day with. In hindsight, a simple yarn over button hole would have sufficed for toggle buttons, but I'd already ripped back twice. A girl has her limits, ya know.

Posting info on the belly dancing kerfuffle in a few days. I'm still trying to pretend I didn't say yes. There was prolly whisky involved, but That Amy is holding me to it, evil task-mistress that she is. It's just a good thing she's cute... it's hard to detest cute people. C

just a note...

for all the fabri-holics out there. *ahem* (mi-mi-mi-mi...) The new Amy Butler collection has just been deposited here at Clementine's by the sturdy and strong UPS man. I was so engrossed in slicing open the first box I neglected to hold open the door for the other two. He might have grumbled a little. I merely snarled at him and continued to unearth the pretty fabrics. Now I need to put it up on the shelf. Pics tomorrow. *mwah!* C

two weeks already?

En route to my weekly nail beautification appointment this morning, I heard on the radio that Someone has discovered that as you age, a certain enzyme in the brain starts to decrease. It seems that the scientific Someone also discovered that it is this particular enzyme that acts as the 'little voice' in your head that keeps you from saying Inappropriate Things. What can we conclude from this? I apparently was thirteen going on thirty, which would account for my current, enzyme-deficient adjusted age of 56. This also explains several branches of my family tree. I'm just grate4ful (heh, heh. I love new nails!) to have a bona fide excuse, because letting people assume I'm always a wretchedly rude old battle-axe was growing tiresome. Nevermind that I 'prolly deserved it.

New yarns have been arriving in the shop. The 100% silk 'Alchemy' yarns are glorious. Knitting a mitered scarf, the "tres tres chic kerchief" in their Silken Straw as a shop sample. It's the kind of yarn that requires a certain level of nakedness to be properly appreciated. If you can't make it to your LYS to fondle firsthand, you have my sympathies. The Silk Purse yarn is the stuff of dreams. Also recently added are yarns from The Fibre Company. Excellent stuff, espcially the 'Road to China' and 'Organik' yarns. My 'February Lady' sweater is being knit in 'Organik' color 'crater lake'. It might be the best, non-pilling, merino/silk/baby alpaca blend ever. Evah. Srsly.

New knitters have been joining the ranks of the hand-craftily superior in droves. I think Clementine has been personally responsible, especially as she has thrown several cr*cheters at me. I can't help those people. I did order in some special yarn, for those hooker-y types. My allegiance has to end there. Do not ask me to sort out your loopy yarn mess. I. Don't. Know. How.
See, confession is good for the soul. All better now.

Last tidbit for the day... if you are in or near the Ft. Wayne area on the evening of October 17th, be advised that I, your intrepid fiber hostess, will be (forcibly) performing a bellydance. In public. With an audience. Of multiple humans. There is more to be said on this subject, but I cannot bring myself to type the words aloud without whisky, and I have to drive home in an hour. Suffice it to say, there are (in my case), leather and feathers involved. Why do I feel a youtube video coming on? Oh yeah... 'cuz it'll likely be up five minutes after we finish performing.

No, I'm not slurring... yet

No photos. I have to burp the camera of it's many and varied collected snaps, and really, aside from the Magnificent Short-row Heels I just completed on some shockingly pink Koigu, there ain't all that much to see. Oh, 'Pickle' has fully consumed the second ball of Malabrigo, so a dip into the yarn stash ('search and rescue', to be more accurate) for ball #3 will be required this evening. Love the cables. Easy pattern to memorize. Even with the PVC adhesive fumes leaking in from the construction project next door. Not to worry, once the dizziness wears off, so does the urge to faint/puke/cry. The upside is that the weather has been gorgeous, so having the shop doors propped open hasn't been a hardship. See, I'm *such* a 'Pollyanna'. I can play the "glad game" all. damn. day. Cuz' I have the Bushmill's. And a spanking cute La Push, WA shot glass. Be prepared. With a penis, I'd have been a hell of a Boy Scout.

I'm gonna go tend to my socks now, as they are appallingly pink and in dire need of more ribbing. Toe-ups often become high-maintenance, which may cause them to become anklets in this instance. Don't push me. I may be re-dedicating myself to the simple beauty of the after-thought heel once these damn pinky-pies are off needles.

knitter, interrupted

I am an erratic knitter. One of the sideline problems to not being able to consume copious amounts of my ADD medication is my already short attention span is constantly stuttering and hiccuping onto the Next Great Idea. Sometimes I can disregard these impulses. Other times I can channel them onto a 'list'. And sometimes inspiration trounces you unawares, say, at your mailbox, and you know you haven't got any choice but to trudge back to the haus, grab up those four skeins of "lettuce" Malabrigo worsted, and push the cat out of the way...

This is pretty much how messy my side of the bed is all the time, and you will notice I've set aside the super-steamy, sexy, hawt highlander novel for this, the 'Rivulet' scarf. Yeah, I'm still knitting away on sixty-eleven pairs of socks, have a gob (that is the official standard unit of measure) of raspberry pink silk/merino awaiting transformation into a sweate4r (oooh, look! e4 is back. Must be the new nails.), and have shelved all plans for home-organization beyond just knocking down the cobwebs in the kitchen before they try to beat me with my own tasting spoon... all because this would not be denied...

Every time I pull it out of the knitting bag, someone (No-Amy, just fer instance...) exclaims that it looks like a pickle. She may have accused it of smelling like a pickle, as well. The hazards of pub knitting. All that lovely knitted texture, cables done to perfection, and she likens it to a pickle. *sigh* It's growing pretty quickly, and my continental knitting skills have improved dramatically, what with all the purling required of this design. Texture is the new yoga.
What's not the new yoga: freezing on the beach. Here's a pic of the fandamnly (sans moi, the photographer). Lake Michigan, mid-August, just as the fog began rolling in. Looks like torture, right? Trust me, I was in no quick hurry to snap the picture and miss the cold crash of the surf around their ankles. I feel no compulsion what-so-ever to figure out the auto-timer on that camera. Nope. None.

business or pleasure?

Tomorrow our Clementine turns two. Not the most earth-shattering announcement, but after the first year, I didn't expect to be tucking another anniversary under my belt. Embarking on year three in the face of the financial disaster currently riding the rails might seem like a doomed mission, but not for nothing do I come from tenacious a**hole stock. The knot is tied at the end of the rope. Commencing to hang on through the thick and thin of the coming year, secret stash of bourbon at the ready.
Today is 'Love Your LYS' day, according to the Harlot's page-a-day calender. Now, I get that she's a Canadian, she has unlimited access to 'Screech' (Newfoundland rum rocks!), and her depth perception may nay be so good, but, honestly... August? WTF? How freaking nuts is a yarn shop appreciation day in the heat of summer? I demand to know who is responsible for this abomination. It's nearly ninety degrees out, so humid even I have kinky hair today, and I'm supposed to believe that yarn shops around the world are rejoicing, reveling in their day of recognition. I can only shake my head and wonder at the desperation Ms.McPhee must've been faced with to feel compelled to pop that corker into her stack of fun factoids for her first-ever calendar...

Middle Child turned 10 yesterday, and had a celebration in spite of our last minute guilt trip to Milwukee. Getting home with exactly zero days to prepare for a child's birthday party tends to make a parent frantic, which leads to Bad Decisions... decisions like letting said child loose in the Barbie aisle, carte blanche. Oh yes, there was an overdose of pink and purple plastic in her shopping cart, which has had the added effect of turning her play space into something of a cat house, swathed in slutty dresses and replete with two alarmingly cheerful Ken dolls. *sigh*

no excuse for it

It would seem I've become an Olympic-level participant in blog-avoidance. Not much to blog about, here in the heartland during the dog days of summer. Not complaining. Just trying to stifle the yawn.
Monday/Tuesday Mandi has shown a remarkable ability to talk me into the strangest things. Case in point: the creation of new yarn displays. I had a notion when the shop first opened about screwing paint cans to the wall, to display hand painted sock yarns. Imagine the shock on every one's faces when I pulled out of Lowe's with these in tow...

Yes, that's a roadster's-worth of cans. There were six more in the 'trunk'. Made a helluva racket driving back to the shop. The stares from men in tall trucks at stoplights were more than entertaining. Next up... remembering to bring in the drill to get the display built.

Still working on my Seattle disease... the skinny clap. Once it's finished I can go apply for my passport. That's what it takes these days to make progress. High-end bribes. I ordered gobs of 'Alchemy Yarns' and have future projects piling up aplenty, but this wee scarf is nearly done. Yay, me. To complicate matters, the skeins of yarn my clap is reposed on is still more of the 'Blue Heron Yarns' rayon metallic. The idea of a knitted tank won't go away, but since I'm trapped on the 'forever plateau' weight-loss wise, I'm hoping to put off the urge to knit clingy things for a while.

There's been a few new developments on the quilting front, the most alarming of which is my fascination with curved seams. Not the wavy, staggering drunk, careless seaming of a novice patch worker, but full-on, deliberate curves.

Yeah, baby. Gonna stitch it like I mean it... just as soon as I get my tired old machine to co-operate. This is the worst possible to for it to go all temperamental on me, but I'm learning to stop flinching and just roll.
That's all for now, my darling chicas. Clementine is starting a couple of knit-alongs for back-to-school. New yarns and fabrics arriving almost daily, which prolly 'splains my acute sense of impending doom. I did warn y'all not to use the words "stimulus package" in range of my hearing, right?

string theory

New 'Farmhouse Yarns' fingering weight sock yarn. Lil' friend Susan requested it be caked up to show off the colorways better. Yes, it does make them prettier, and yes, she's quite smug about this.

Finally got around to finishing the 'beach glass' modern quilt wrap kit. Miss G will be knitting these bits o' fluff into submission. Me, I'm still knitting on my 'Blue Heron Yarns' clap. Five dropped stitches so far. Mandi has three. No-Amy is choking us with her knitty-dust. She's knitting like a woman on fire. Last time I checked she'd dropped ten stitches, but a day has passed, so I figure her's should be about finished. I'll try to mooch a photo of it for y'alls.

With the demise of our most beloved Amy Butler fabric lines ('Belle' and 'Lotus' are sadly discontinued), I thought it was time to package up some of those exotic prints into quilterly stacks of gooodness. Behold, fabric-mavens: the quilt-in-a-box. Twelve half-yard cuts of mixey-matchy cuteness, crammed into a recycled grape tub... 'cuz Miss Rob always brings me weird stuff to re-use.

The county fair starts today. Trailers full of four legged animals have been pouring into town, the rides are nearly set up, and my almost over-whelming urge to stomp over and order a deep-fried Snickers bar/dill pickle from one of those scary, carney grease-wagons is getting harder to resist. I also realize that it's been over half a year since I made an honest attempt at sewing anything, so tonight, whilst the chicken and noodles sit in the simmering oven, I'm hauling out the box of half-finished quilt tops and seeing what I can make 'go away'. The fact that we're having an unusual break in summer's torturous heat makes thinking about quilt tops seem nay so crazy. Maybe clearing some of life's thready excesses out of my closet will make it easier to look ahead to new projects with fresh, less jaded eyes...

quite done moping

Sooo... boo, already. A month-long hiatus seemed just the thing to cure my blog ennui. Not for nothing am I known as the Procrastination Queen. That four of my five children have celebrated birthdays since the day after my return flight from Seattle, (with the resultant flurry of required activity that cake and gift-shopping beget) should be 'excuse' enough. Factor in a mild bout of post-vacation "Washington-is-more-fabulous-than-chocolate" depression, and you have the empty shell of me, able to do little more than drag my arse to yoga and belly-dance classes, drink double Bushmill's (neat, thank you), and stay up way too late reading romance novels. It has actually served to extend my vacation, delaying the pain of re-entry for a month. Now we're back into 'life as usual', the kids and Herr Becher are learning Japanese (Rosetta Stone rocks, btw), and I'm tagging along, knitting in hand, keeping the avalanche-prone laundry mountains from smothering anyone whilst they're the nether-regions of Becher Haus, and sneaking a clove smoke on the front porch when I need to hide from the noise of chirruns.

I was pretty sure I had photos of new sock yarns to show you, but Wednesday is nail day, so I dashed off without the proper equipment to photograph the 'Farmhouse Yarns'. Tho thorry. Now, since it's quiet here and tonight is movie night for the chirruns (we have to arrive early to get seven whole seats in a row), I'm going to go read some Scots romance/p0rn. A girl's gotta keep her mind active, ya know? C

Jamie's 'knitting'

As some of you know, the concept of yardwork or 'landscaping' is foreign to the residents of Becher Haus. So, bearing that in mind, allow me to show you a few scenes from the grounds around 'chez jamie', the other half of Miss G.

 

 

 

 

Digging in the dirt is Mr.G's knitting... his happy place, which is now festooned with everything from strawberry-scented roses to avocados and kiwi. The Scottish moss was my favorite... he let me dig my toes into it. Now, to wrangle an invite back to the house of hounds...

water and rabid foxes

glacial waters cascading down mt. rainier. i made it down the path for the photo-op, and discovered my inner mountain goat on the way back up.

golden fox, parking lot, paradise base camp, mt.rainier. "don't touch it, it might have rabies". i wasn't always so paranoid... but look how crazy he looks.

scenic view from an edge of cresent lake. we came, we saw, we smoked.

cutesty shoes what cost more than the average plane ticket. i didn't even get in deep trouble for these... perhaps that shoe is still waiting to fall...

more pics to follow...

squawk

Miss Fiona, one of the French bulldogs-in-residence at 'So Much Yarn' in Seattle. This creature tongue-bathed my legs and broke her licker... as you can plainly see, it no longer retracts. The yarn-ladies were lovely, and apparently adept hypnotists. I left with a gob of yarn earmarked for another 'Clopotis'. As I said before, it was a drinking day.

Deception Pass. Headed out to Whidby. I have a photo showing the perpetually pissed face I made every time I got near a bridge, but my pride doesna allow me to show it to you... yet. I brought the good scotch in with me today, so maybe later. Suffice it to say, a lot of Xanax was consumed so that Melly and crew could get me to...

here. For all you Sandra Bullock fans, this is a bit of Coupeville, the wee hamlet where the street scenes for the movie 'Practical Magic' were filmed. The building on the far right is the 'potions' shop from the movie. In real life, it's a gift shop filled with fabulous scents and bobbles. I snagged a gaudy, beaded necklace as my souvenir. Loved the island; the nerve-shattering bridges and breath-taking views were a bit more formidable than I expected.

Another unexpected delight: taking the ferry back to 'civilization'. We'd arranged to meet Miss G at 'Great Yarns' in Everett for knit night. The ride was fun, and the harbor views couldn't have been more charming.
Tomorrow: Cami meets the scary mountain and shows off her souvenir shoes...