Art Fair

I really enjoyed my hours at Arti Gras today.  CS, EL, MLS, and I talked to at least a hundred people asking if they were knitters and, if they weren't, asking if they'd like to be.  People admired the items that the guild members (guild-ers?) had brought for display and a few were disappointed not to be able to buy them but since we got the booth gratis selling isn't allowed.  No biggie.  I'll be back for a few hours tomorrow too.  It's fun.


My favorite potter, Potters Field Stoneware from down near Milwaukee, was there.  I have a stack of her bowls but I find that these days I'm eating more of my meals out of bowls... so I managed to snag three new ones. (they were on sale!!!)  Aren't they pretty?  Even now they're washed and air drying in the kitchen.




All of us were sure that we'd get a lot of knitting done while we sat in the booth but we were way too busy talking to people walking by.  I managed to get a preemie hat cast on and 8 rounds knitted before time to pack up and come home.  EL taught me a new way to purl that she says helped her tighten up her purls.  Right now mine are even looser than my usual purls but I have faith that once I've learned to do the stitch better my stitches will tighten up.  Besides I like knowing a new, different way to purl.  Seems like a secret magic trick.

 9 March--Tropical Obsession. 

Like a green arrow the tall Caribbean pine pierced the bright blue sky. No clouds marred the blue as Jack drove toward the tree. Toward the tree, he thought, feeling like a foolish child on a scavenger hunt. The clues that Manning left for him were just like that, clues fit for a child’s game of pirates. Each time he followed one--his pulse pounding, his palms sweaty--only to find another taunt at the end, he resolved to stop. He had not told Nola where he was going when he went on one of Manning’s wild goose chases and she had stopped asking. Jack hated the way he felt not being in charge of things. In all his other dealings, whether business or personal, it was he, Jack, who called the tune. He was the one who sent people running from pillar to post, beads of sweat dusting their upper lips, to do things and get things for him. He was not sent ignominiously all over the place only to be laughed at. No one laughed at Jack. Nola had teased him once right after he had acquired her. She was made to understand how wrong that was immediately. Nola was a fast learner.

Guess what it's doing right now.  Wrong.  It's snowing.  Wet, heavy, gloppy snow.  It isn't cold enough to make driving treacherous but it's still a sloppy mess out there and we're supposed to get a few inches overnight.  Double yuk.  The wet stuff is hell to shovel and it usually won't go through the snowblower.  The only saving grace is that it's supposed to be in the 40s by Wednesday so maybe I'll just shove it off in the street and let it melt.

Did you remember to turn your clocks back?
--Barbara