Another Yarn-Related Photo Dump

It was a month ago now, but I recently had a birthday.

For those of you who are new here, a birthday Chez Nous means a wicked yarn crawl.  What happens when you combine snow days, yarn crawls, startitis, and power outages?

Aftermath

It's the fourth day of Christmas.  There are fresh English football matches to watch and frigid windy weather to keep us inside and stale Christmas cookies to throw away and I'm starting to dream about my job again and to make lists of things I gotta do again and new books to read and old knitting to finish and I'm only sleeping twelve hours a day now instead of sixteen.  Time marches on, but before I start on the final 2010 clean-up and embark on 2011, let's review Christmas 2010.

It snowed:

Just barely, but there were five minutes of "Ooh!  Pretty!" to go along with the cocoa and kringle.  Note to self:  write thank-you note to MIL.

Simmering the sauce

We have achieved the stage of the bolognese when I don't have to stand there and watch any more.  If I just remember to stir it once in awhile, that's enough.  The biscotti are sitting in a turned-off oven for their final crisping, and they will be ready in time for lattes.  And so I am finally sitting down.  Aaaaaaaaaaahhh.


Today's biscotti is Lemon-Anise, only I hate anise, so they are Lemon-Vanilla.  This is the recipe:

I left the magazine on my knitting bag, so Tiki borrowed it and edited it for me.  Maybe it's compulsive to slog through recipes just because they're there, but if I were really compulsive, I'd be forced to use anise instead of being flexible and changing the recipe, right?

Mercoledi Mishap

Kirby got his itchy feets medicine put between his toes this morning, and so he got a rawhide stick for being such a good boy. This means that Yarn Bandit got one too.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Let me ask you: What happens when you mix rawhide sticks with open closet doors?

You get a violated sock yarn stash. The special sub-stash that I had segregated for my SIL was also violated and is no longer segregated. When it's time for her socks, I'm going to have to guess which yarn she picked.

.

.

.

.

Also, the bag is still slimy with doggie spit. And some of the skeins are chewed.

.

.

.

.

.

Who do you think is the culprit?

.

.

.

Well, which beagle is the one who likes to hide things?

.

.

.

.

And which beagle has a special attraction to yarn?.

.

.

You may want to imagine that this photo shows his deep remorse for messing with Bunny's stuff. Don't kid yourself. He's not sorry. He's just wondering why Dirtbunny is glaring at him. I predict that he'll be sucking up for the rest of the day to get back in my good graces.

Culprits

This is not what I was going to do when I took a half-day off to handle some bidness and play in the sunshine, and this is not what I was going to write about, but I am obviously not in control of my own life anymore. Here goes.



Bunny gets home early from work and goes back to her room to change into play clothes and finds this:

That's not the best photo, but if it were in focus, you would see that it is smears of someone's crusty eye boogers and dried-up drool puddles on Bunny's pillowcase. Bunny did not do this herself.

Also on the bed was this:

Do you see, knitters, which book it is? Do you see? (Note to non-knitters: this is a special book. Correction. This was a special book) How bad is it?

It's bad. I don't know for sure who is responsible for what, but I have my theories:

Don't you dare say he's cute! He's not cute. He's the devil. El Diablo!

You may now return to the top and take the poll.

Plus, this just in:

Hello out there! Bunny quit smoking! Does anyone besides The Bean's mom care?

Yarn Bandit Strikes Again

Can't a girl even go to the bathroom around here without securing all knitting items?


Why?

Honestly, Why? Does anyone out there have an answer for me?