This is what happens if you lie down for ten minutes in my house:

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I’m not sure who was there first.

Actually, it’s not too different if you lie down outside, either – just different animals. Anybody have any advice on how to teach a sheep not to jump up on people? Because it’s really, really cute right now, but later on it’s going to hurt, I expect.

Usually, my internet connection is quite fast. A couple of years ago there was a program started to help farmers and other rural types around here to get decent internet. We had dial-up, of course, but since the phone lines around here seem to be based on the “tin can and a piece of string” principle, it was a tad frustrating. So they (y’know, “they”) installed all these wireless towers, and now we can have high-speed internet and a reliable connection, just like the city folk.

Except for when they have to move or fix something, like this week. This week I’m back on dial-up, and whoo boy, is it slow. Also, it keeps bumping me off line.

I had to do some internet stuff today though, so rather than bang my keyboard with frustration while I waited for things to load, I started a sock.

Printed some shipping labels:

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Did some internet banking:

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Checked the weather:

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Dropped by Ravelry:

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I’m kidding, I’m kidding! I was only on Ravelry long enough to check my messages. That last picture is the other sock in the pair, and it already looked like that. But, you know it could have happened!

The dye in those socks, by the by, is yellow food coloring, the last of the sumac, and beets. I don’t know why the beets are orange, unless it’s one of those PH things, there was a lot of vinegar in the mix. I think it’s funny, because every time I’m talking to a non-crafty type about dyeing, they say “oh, you should dye with beets, they stain everything!” I tried dyeing cotton with beets ages ago and got no color at all – although it seems to me there might have been a reason I’ve forgotten. Had no luck with red wine, either. And when I tried beets on wool the other night, I got – orange.

I’m kind of happy, though, because these socks are turning out not-unpleasantly, which is about as far as you can get from what I was expecting. Yellow and orange top the list of my least favorite colors (but your rhinos are still cool, Lee!) and I thought these were going to be hideous. Another argument for dyeing before spinning! (A connundrum: I like spinning dyed wool, but I like dyeing spun yarn. Must seek balance.) Anyway, despite having spent hours of work and gallons of paint ridding my life of that weird pinky-orange, which the previous owners of the house apparently liked A Lot, I’m not going to mind wearing these socks after all.

Caboose on this scattered train of thought: Our place used to be a school. It was closed in ‘68, and shortly after converted to a house. Then there was an eerily long series of people who lived here for a year or two – enough to make us wonder, looking at the title search, whether the place was demon-infested or something – then one family had it from ‘89 to ‘99 or so, and then it was vacant until we bought it.

During all that time, and with all those owners, don’t you think it is terminally weird that nobody painted the walls? Oh, the original people did. And at some point, I literally think it was when the last owners were trying to sell it, someone wallpapered the tiny downstairs bathroom. But other than that bathroom, all the walls had one layer of paint. The only thing that had been done to personalize the decor, by anyone, was some sponge dabbing, which was done mostly as borders, on the same original paint job. I get the shivers just thinking about it. I can’t imagine living somewhere and not wanting or caring to make it mine. Sure, sometimes you have an apartment or something where you’re not allowed to change the walls, so you do what you can with pictures or slipcovers or whatever, but in your own house? That you bought and live in?
I just don’t get it.

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