Plied another comatose 2-year-old single from Tour de Fleece 2012. I’ll tell you what. Plying stagnant singles is no fun, but I’m glad to get this out of my spinning basket, and I’m pleased with the end product. From Hello Yarn “Flora,” a Yarn School colorway. About 200 yards. No idea yet what it will be.
Today was equal parts TCB (taxes, mainly–still months before my extension expires!) and enjoying the season.
I really dig our “pool house,” screen tent we set up around the kiddie pool. I don’t know whether I’m happier hiding from the flies during the day or the mosquitoes at night, but already I’m spending hours more outdoors, conveniently shielded from the pitfalls of backyard life.
While Twyla wants to explore the rest of the yard, especially when Georgie’s there, I’d just as soon park my ass in the pool house all afternoon, cooling my feet in her inflatable pool.
Besides keeping the kiddie pool clean so much longer, it’s 100-odd square feet of breezy, shaded, nearly bug- and completely chicken-free bliss.
If you have backyard chickens that free range, you know that backyard chickens mean color and charm, but also lots of poop and even more flies. Throw in a neglected mulberry tree, and I’m making a market in flypaper. In addition to the pesky byproducts, the accidental rooster is increasingly becoming a big pain in my butthole, occasionally charging me and crowing enthusiastically at all hours, like one of those annoying high-strung dogs that barks constantly and for no reason. With the wind the right way, his muffled 3am cries frequently enter or interrupt my dreams as someone screaming bloody murder. (This is undoubtedly enhanced by my bedtime dose of True Blood.)
While I haven’t yet decided whether Francis the rooster gets to stick around, I am enjoying having a little flock again, especially now that one of the girls has started pumping out wee eggs. Once I have a dozen, I’m going to make a tray of miniature deviled eggs.
While the showy but useless rooster was an accident, when I picked out this batch of chickens, I threw my usual pragmatism out the window and deliberately chose one purely for beauty: Pee-wee, a Polish Crested, who was plucked bald in the brooder but now happily holds her own. She’s so fun to watch, the spunky runt of the flock, charging around with her fancy hat flopping about.
Wee Pee-wee:
My favorite phase, the Mohawk:
Tonight’s spin: plying the final two corpses from TdF 2012, both Laura’s Pygoras Shetland roving:
