Oh boy.

Oh, boy.

Oh, bother.

Obsessed.

Whatever.


I went to the local shop last night for their knitting and crochet group. The only other lady there last night was crocheting a hat out of WalMart acrylic. She said she had to bring simple things to work on so she wouldn't get the pattern in a mess because of spending the time talking. I knit the cuff on the second STR sock. I figured that was simple enough for me. We had a great two hours talking and being all fibery. And we checked out the store stock. She bought self-striping yarn for four pairs of crocheted socks. Me? I resisted the yarn. I looked at the roving. I looked at the drop spindles. And I found two books that somehow I sensed were waiting there for me to find them.

I've had my face in them all day. The spinning book was very helpful. Funny, though, I found that I had already figured out the techniques on my own. As if by some invisible guidance. Oh, what gentle spinning spirits have invaded my home? And why me? (As if I needed something else to mess around with.) I've spent all my free time today spinning. It's coming out much smoother now. And my arms aren't hurting.

And the Twisted Sisters book? This way lies madness. Dark side, here I come.

Resistance is futile, or so they say.