Crazy Stuff

I finally seem to be shaking that cruddy cold. I came down with it on Monday and spent most of Saturday in bed. Nice, huh? Needless to say, I didn’t knit much for the ravelympics. But I am not in it to actually finish. I am in it just to participate. Or at least pretend to!

I was touched with a little inspiration during the week and picked up some fabric to make some grocery bags at JoAnn’s. I’ve washed and folded the fabric and it sits gathering dust on the sewing table. I can’t really start anything just now because I am going to be really busy this week.

I think next week we will be going up to the sheep farm. I was happy to hear from the breeder that Mapquest had not been attempting to lead us astray. I don’t trust those things. They tend to send people a good 15 miles out of their way if they are coming to an address on our road. It tells people to go way up the state highway instead of turning in town and following a paved road out of town that our road intersects. 10 miles up the highway and then backtrack however many miles back. I actually tested the thing to see how I could get it to tell me to use our way to get to town, and it is an extra 15 miles by their calculations. And they have us 2.4 miles from the road right across from our driveway. Right across. Anyway, the sheep. I am getting a couple colors at least. I will get 3 if I can. I’d buy more sheep if I thought I could afford them. Like if Brent was working. I think 3 sheep and the 2 goats should do a good job of grazing off the grass around the house. The more I think about it, the more I think even more sheep would be better. We have plenty of property to graze. But I have to think of the facilities I currently have, too. We can add more later. They will still exist…

The craziest thing happened tonight. I was reading a blog post at The ADD Knitter and she made a reference to the Dionne quintuplets. I couldn’t believe it. They were the first quintuplets to survive infancy. They were born the same year as my father, 1934. My grandmother made a scrapbook for my Dad and uncle and she had pictures of them in it. She also said their childhood was a travesty. The government in Ontario took the girls from their parents to make money off of them. I couldn’t believe there was anyone under the age of 65 besides me that knew who they were. It was so cool.


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