The guilt of endless procrastination is at an end. Marla is blocked. She is drying on the dining room table blocking board. The DH, when viewing the carnage, remarked that it looked like a familiar scene. He spoke of early Christiandom, and wondered aloud if I loved my daughter so much that I had her crucified. I don't think he had seen blocking pins before. I thought it was more reminiscent of voodoo rituals. You always hurt the one you love.
This may work. The chest measurement post-blocking was four inches wider.
The Aurora Melange Husband Scarf is about 2/3 done. That, plus spinning, has occupied my fiber time this weekend.
Yesterday, dinner, indeed, was completed on the deck. There were footprints outlined in slush from the porch to the grill. He never complained. The steak was done to perfection.
Cormo 90%/silk 10% is on the bobbin. The long fiber length makes it a sumptuous spin. I'm still playing with finer gauge singles. The color transitions are beautiful and subtle. Etherknitter, AKA the Spin Slut, ordered three more bobbins from Toni of Socks That Rock fame. There are too many pretty roving faces tempting me from the Rhinebeck stash to pledge fidelity to one bag. I'm about 2 ounces into a four ounce bag:
Today's weather was a stunning turnaround from yesterday's cold, snowy, damp purgatory. The last of the perennials made it into the ground during the afternoon sunshine. I must confess that the spring plantings go in with far more care and love than the ones in the late fall. At this point of the season, the goal changes from nurturing little plants, to Just Get It Into The Ground, Damnit. So I did.