Old business first - the contest closed Tuesday night and I picked two winners at random. I've contacted the winners and heard back from them, so congratulations to Paula M. and Megan! I want to thank everyone so much for all the wonderful uplifting tales and inspirations you shared with me. It really did bring me up and remind me how nice people truly are. :-D
So. Louet. Right? Yeah - since this isn't some big ol' secret, my current fiber and yarn supplier is Louet. (That's the Koigu yarn base, yum. My yardage will be more generous though.) Anyway, I've been anxiously awaiting my order - it's partially backordered, but the sportweights and fibers were shipped out and due to arrive on Wednesday. I work from home on Wednesdays, so I spent the whole day tracking the package like I was SWAT and then I saw a blip on the FedEx radar: Delivery failure, invalid address.
Okay, let's just clear up here that I may be delusional about a great many things in life, but the valid existence of my residence? I'm pretty clear on that. I called FedEx. I called Louet. Louet called FedEx. I provided explicit directions (turn right off the major cross-state highway, take a left, it's the first rather imposing home on the left. Not rocket science, pretty tough to miss.) I waited. Next day, I track again. Not on a truck. I call. "Huh. Uh, we'll put it on the afternoon truck." I track again mid-afternoon. Kentucky.
Wait, what? Kentucky? How fast does that afternoon truck move?? Does the truck have wings and turbine engines? 'Cuz that's a PLANE. And I don't recall my directions including "take a right at Kentucky"!!!
I call. I get, "Huh. Kentucky. That's weird." Yes. Yes, it is. Not only is it weird, but if you determine my residence does not exist and you decide to start an exhaustive door-to-door search, Kentucky would be an unusual choice of starting points, as one of the few places in this country to which I've never been. So. Kentucky. Okay. Can you please bring it back? "Yes. You'll have it tomorrow." Gee, will I need to pick it up or will you deliver? "Call in the morning and we'll let you know." I was kidding, are you serious? "Um. Um..." Okay, fine. I'll call you. I call Louet. Louet calls FedEx. I get home.
Wouldn't you know it. Behold, my stuff. But ... if a package is in Kentucky AND on my front door step....wait.
I am on the porch.
The package is on my porch.
The package is in Kentucky.
Thus, by the transitive properties of the package, my porch is in Kentucky.
We'll be sitting on the porch this weekend, dyeing yarn, sipping mint juleps, and listening to bluegrass music.
But wait, it gets better. Get a load of this box.
Snort. Scribbled notes back and forth, and finally, a big color printed Google Map. (I really wish there was a star and the note, "Moron, it's right HERE.") I'm sure the driver is really a very smart guy - it simply appears he was expecting a business, not a residence, and is obviously keenly unaware of the ability to operate a very tiny business from a home. (It's not like this is a crate of international goods, guy. It's a 15 pound box of fluff n' string.)
I have enough to get me started this weekend, though, so that should be fun. And while I wait for things to soak / heat up / strike / set (it's a lot of waiting, this process), I have the rest of this to do:
Lookit! A body! I still have the collar to do, plus a sleeve and about a third of another sleeve. Then there's all the end weaving - knitting a sweater of yarn in 55-yard put-ups means a LOT of end weaving. I got half a sleeve out of one skein. Ugh. (But it's so PRETTY.) So far, I think I'm content with the fit. I could have been patient and added just one more inch to the body, but with the alpaca and silk element, I think it'll probably stretch a bit anyway.
There's supposed to be a cold snap this weekend - I really hope I can finish this tomorrow, because I probably won't have a chance to wear it again until about October. (This was indeed a well-planned project on my part. But pretty!)
And in conclusion, ohmygod Flickr is awesome:
Heheheh. Heheheheheheh. Heh.