Ok, if you have access and money, get yourself some Rowan Calmer. Julia gave me some a while back, but I never got around to playing with it until the other night. If I were a cartoon, I'd have little hearts popping around my noggin right now.

It'll probably be used for a pattern that I won't be able to blog about, so I'll just show you the boring beginning bits, along with a bit more of my spinning, which looks a lot like all the other pictures of my spinning.

Exciting, huh? I'm definitely getting the hang of spinning. It's very relaxing, but I find it less portable than my knitting, so it gets less attention.

In other news, I'm headed to SF next week to celebrate Leo's b-day. We're taking Miss Panda along with us and will see my parents who are there for a wedding. Yay! I'm saying it now, so you can hold me to it, I will NOT buy yarn in SF. I will NOT buy yarn in SF. I have absolutely no need to add to my stash right now. My cup runneth over. I have an embarrassment of riches. The house is overrun with balls, skeins, hanks, and knotted messes of lovely yarn.

Now, on a topic unrelated to everything above, I've been informed that my blog is seriously lacking in Deb. "Who's Deb?" you ask. Well, Deb is a friend of mine and, apparently, a source of unrequited lust for my little brother.

So by request, here she is, in her splendor and glory, Miss Deb:

At Chrissy's Bachalorette party, Miss Deb poses, while Miss Chrissy gets a hole in her navel.


Deb finds something rather amusing. Yours truly holds the camera as though she cannot hold her alcohol.


Deb prefers the company of men, preferably in great quantity. This was a gaggle of military men, and Marissa (who is neither a man nor in the military).

And of course, there'd be no Deb montage complete without one of her signature stances:

And, no, that's not my bottom, thanks for asking.