The yarn pirate is shyly pleased that someone created a feed over at Livejournal for this blog. I mean, wow..... Thanks! Drat, I guess that means I cannot duplicate posts? New content must be created... right, okay. Stop whining, you yarn pirate, just get on with it.
Well lessee.... there has been much SEX this week. That's a "Stash Enrichment Expedition" for the knitting terminology impaired. It means, I went to the yarn store. Twice!!! Then? I used the excuse of being out and about to go get a soy gingerbread latte. Coffee porn. Mmmmm. I am really loving the new yarn shop in my neighborhood, Azalia's Yarn on Washington Blvd. in (I think) Culver City. It's about a block away from the DMV, on the north side of the street. Next to the church/daycare. Seriously good mix of cheap/mid range/high priced yarns. They carry Misti Alpaca and Cascade. This makes for a happy girl. I didn't spend much cos I'm on a serious budget, but I did mentally earmark some yarns to be purchased later on for projects I'd like to make. I got a pair of #19 knitting needles (Clover) which is somewhat like knitting with a couple Duraflame logs. But makes for a very nifty garter stitch in fancy fine yarn.
I have to come up with some kind of plan for organizing the stash, such as, bagging and labelling yarn I got for specific projects with the book/page # of the project it is earmarked for (because I'm utterly lame and cannot remember) and then having a 'general' stash for stuff I just thought was shiny. This gives new meaning to the word stashbox. Just sayin.
I finished the long stocking cap in green and black. You can see a picture of it here but you have to imagine it with the new colors because my oldest sprog has hijacked the digital camera.
My morning coffee is full of stolen sugar. See, we ran out days ago. So last night, at Chipotle, well, er.... I filled my purse with "sugar in the raw" packets. Not one, not two, but really quite a few of them. Like, maybe, ten. I'm shocked that I made it out the door intact, that security did not tackle me and raise the sugar high, yelling (triumphantly) "AhhhHA! It's the hoosegow for you, Miss!" This morning, I am feeling somewhat smug as I sip my properly sweetened coffee, yet still eyeing the front door nervously as I expect the CCPD to break it down any moment and yell "STOP! Don't take another sip of that stolen sugar!" and haul me off to lock up. It's really quite the most nefarious thing I've done in absolutely years. Years and years. Since high school, when I outfitted my dashing college friend Duane's absolutely pathetic kitchen with silverware and dishes from the Eureka Denny's, really. Which got me 86'ed from Denny's eventually, of course. In a one horse town with ONE 24 hour place to get coffee on the weekends, that's harsh punishment, y'all. I wonder if they still have my picture up next to the cash register with a note that says "NO LOVE"? It's been about twenty years, so probably not.
That's right, you thought the pirate label was just for fun, didn't you? No, really, I'm quite bad. YARRRRRRRR.