Meanwhile, Not Quite Back on Earth

Shouldn't a little reality dispel a nice euphoric fog?

Marco wants to charge me a fee for his modelling services (and for agreeing to give up Red Scarf #2). Payment is to be made in scarves. Yes. Scarves. Plural.

He has raided the stash and unearthed some of my best stuff. From right to left, he has chosen Mountain Colors 4/8 in Pheasant for his math and homeroom teacher, Blue Sky Alpaca Melange in Relish, #808, for the mysterious Miss Ferguson (mysterious because I have no idea who she is), Lorna's Laces Shepherd's Sport in Watercolor for his speech therapist, Lorna's Laces Shepherd Sport in Argyle for his scarf (this, admittedly, with some prompting from me, since that was its original intent), and Reynold's Odyssey in Brown, #503, for Dad.














Euphoria is one thing. Insanity is another. No. I am not going to attempt to knit 5 scarves in a week. Of course not. But boy, I sure am flattered that Marco thinks I should.

Of course, there are key-hole scarves. They're small, right? And where are my crochet hooks? The big ones.

P.S. They finished the porches last night.





















Is finishitis contagious?