Spinneret

This Side Of The Fence

We had a brief and loud storm in the wee hours this morning, seen here beating a hasty retreat over the mountain. chicken.

Any morning I wake up on this side of the fence I figure I am already ahead of the game. The view tickles me, and the light can't be beat.

Internet Access

WorldBlink, your internet provider. Blink, and we're gone.
Muzzer fookairs.
In the midst of trying to find which box I packed the can opener in, switching down a size in clothes because I can't find the damn thing and I am running my ass off in all departments of life my (ex) internet provider decided as I wasn't obediently submitting (via formal credit card dispute) to fraudulent billing for a double service which had never been ordered, installed or activated they would in fact bill me for the regular service I had ordered AND cut off same service to show me who was boss. All I had to do to get my primary service back was give them an additional credit card number for them to play with and they'd get around to restoring my service when someone on the outsourced side of Accounts Receivable managed to push the "go" button - in 7 - 10 business days, or thereabouts.
My patience is not infinite - I fired the bastards.
48 hours later, with Stateside and friendly customer service who don't hang up on you, I'm back in business.
Rule #2 of Show Business; Piss me off and my resources and I walk.

Primarily Spring

Friends came to meet Helen today. A boat load of tulips and daffodils came with them in glorious, bright, zapping, "wake-up it's March" yellow. Absolutely perfect. Nothing would do at lunch but lemonade.

After some light archeology the perfect vase re-appeared from it's long winter's nap. The sunlight will hit them first thing in the morning. The formica peninsula will be front row.

I'm Breathing

Paint fumes.
Only time for a "Hullo Bunny"
I'm knitting - finishing up those 3 pair of socks to race back up the stairs in (the stairs have been stripped, sanded, stained and look mighty fine.). Note to self, stripping paint and "0" needles are the road to Carpel Tunnel.
And the story socks have reappeared. They'd gone up the river Lethe and were rediscovered at the well head. More of those anon.
Damn glad to see you.

Our Helen

    The house is still very much Helen’s.  It was Helen’s for 63 years.  As much as I may be taking her breath away we are getting a kick out of each other, I think.  So I am calling the house Helen for now.  Though we are only south of Cairo and nowhere near Troy. 

    She has a fine sense of humor, our Helen.  The doors only unlock for approved people.  Hysterical.  How does she do that?  Laughter is the main impression one gets walking in here.
    The chemical squad has siddled in.  We’re doing our worst.  And she’s a game girl, Helen.  It may not be spring but the winds of change are definitely blowing her skirts up. 
    These are the socks that House knit.  I needed something mindless and entertaining, all that picketing, packing and purchasing, oh my.

Stahl somethign or other.  The ball band and indeed extra ball have escaped me in the Box Riot of '07.

So beside myself was I the week before closing I finished 1 sock from each of three pairs.  The Stahls on 3’s ( 2’s would have been better),

Wildfoote -500 Brown Sugar on 3’s (yes, that is a faux shaped arch in there),

  and Wildfoote  - 04 Elderberry - on 0’s (and no I didn’t write any of this one down and it conatins staggered cables and waltzing® ribbing - 1,2,3 - 1,2,3), oh dear.

    There are now enough socks for a three legged race up and down the stairs as the waiting time for the paint stripper is filled.
    Snow has begun to fly.  Helen is snug and cozy.  There is great anticipation of sitting tight and listening to the wind come down from the mountain.  For now the flurry is within, listening to the house breathe as work progresses.  We’ll get her girdle laces loosened up, our Helen.
    No Christmas lights would do but Pink ones.   

    Hysterical.