Shall I Fill It With Yarn?

Here's the chest in it's new home. Dragging it up the stairs nearly herniated all my middle aged, herniable places but I did it!

Pleased I am.

Crooked

Well, it's not much of an FO but it's what I got. I was pretty tickled at the discovery of diagonal stripes and came up with a little scarf. Scraps of Svale, Noro and Kiki in somewhat muted tones, blend together nicely. The funny thing about this technique is how one edge is all raggedy-like while the other is knife straight. I wonder how one might solve that?

How I Spent My Sunday

BEFORE

AFTER

I bought this 1970's record player stand yesterday at a second hand store. I'd been back to look at it several times. First it was eighty dollars. Then fifty. Then it was dragged out front with a big tag saying $40. Every time I thought I'd buy it but something about it just made me go...Eww.
Then I had a nice chat with the store owner, who incidentally, felt the same way, that the orange wood tone and fake French Provincial styling gives one horror flashbacks. She suggested that a nice cream colour would soften it up and make it more palatable. I'd never painted wood furniture before but what the heck?
I think she was right. Some sanding, priming, two coats of paint and voila! I like it!

When It Sucks Hard, You Need Poetry

My sister, Life, is today overflowing
And smashing herself in spring rain on our coats,
But people with monocles are not amused
And bite, quite politely, like snakes in the oats.

The older ones have their own reasons for this.
But yours is a comical reason, no doubt:
That under the storm, eyes and lawns appear lilac
And mignonette sweetens the wind from the south.

That when, on your journey in May, you're consulting
The timetable on the Kamyshin line,
The Bible itself is not more exalting.
Your eyes, mesmerized, are to all else blind.

That, setting, the sun has only to highlight
Girls crowding the railway track, as the train slows,
For me to discover it is not my station,
The sun to extend its regrets as it goes.

And splashing a third time, the bell swims behind,
Its 'Sorry, not here' sounding near, further, far.
The burning night filters in under the blind
And the steppe plunges on from the steps to the star;

Winking and blinking, but sweetly somewhere,
My love, like a mirage, and others all sleep
While, splashing along carriage footboards, the heart
Scatters bright windows across the dark steppe.

Pasternak

Yarn Break

Argghhh!!! Work is eating my brain. My creativity and enjoyment of colour is being sucked out by my ears with a straw. Excel files and email are causing cancer.
So, imagine my delight upon coming home on Tuesday to this giant parcel on my stoop. It's from my lovely SP 13. Looked at all those gifties wrapped in pretty tissue with candies and teabags to fill in the gaps. If that doesn't cheer a tired little knitter's heart, nothing can.

The only good photo I managed of the contents is this one. Apparently, the camera gods are against me too. No matter. Just trust that there was coffee, bath bombs and gorgeous hand made stitch markers in the lot. Observe the collection of whimsical craft paper. It's too pretty to touch. I think I'll need to take a course first. The yarn includes three skeins of Frogtree alpaca that feels, when cradled together, like a litter of newborn pups. The two skeins of Briggs and Little appeal to my appreciation of good Canadian sense. I've never handled the sport weight before and find it surprisingly supple. I also love that the purple is a B&L colour I already have in a bulky. Wonder if there's any way to use the two together?

Thank you sooo much Caroline! I can't find reference to your blog in the parcel. Let me know what it is so I can learn more about you and your knitting