The Yarnarian has melted down.

WIPs (aka Works in Progress)

I've had a 3 year melt-down. When I retired 3 years ago in March, I decided to do what I want when I want, and how I want. Sounds good, no? NOT. Hedonism, as much as I like the idea, is not what I do best. I'm at my peak when I have a list of "what's on tap for today", aka wotft.

I my youth, way back in the middle ages, whenever I had a vacation day, or when I was home with the kids, or whatever, I'd start off the day with the wotft. And it worked beautifully. At the end of the day, I could point to some accomplishment and feel very good about myself. Some people are naturally organized; I'm not one of them. Any organization in my chaotic life is amazing, and wotft is about the only way I can accomplish it.

So, the last few days, I've been back to wotft, and I'm a much happier camper. And today's wotft is the following:

1. Update the blog. Check, am doing that.

2. The never-ending laundry. Where does it all come from?

3. Mail out yarn packages. I hate doing this only because it's boring. Necessary but boring, but I can be adult sometimes and just do it.

4. Make phone calls. Ditto on the boring stuff. Plus I hate talking on the phone. I won't even keep my cell on. Never did like it and never will. I miss facial cues.

5. Dinner! Something with tuna fish. Maybe a casserole. I haven't made one in a long time, and it's cool today, so I can do it without the sweat factor. And anyhow, I love tuna casserole.

6. Fun stuff: Work on a forgotten lace shawl, because I love it, and really would like to wear the thing sometime before the end of the century. Work on the Linus blankie, the new den blankie, and such. Work on a little scarf that I started, and that I think I like a lot. Work on the secret project.

7. Read my book and drink tea.

Does that sound organized? wotft, here I come.








andrea - If I can remember what I did there. It was a while ago.

I've got me love.

Oh, the weather outside is cloudy,
And my dyeing is gonna be rowdy,
As long as I've no place to fly,
Let me dye, let me dye, let me dye!

And I did! Dye! Rowdily!

The month of love is hot on our heels, and it makes me want to dye up some lurve!

So here's what's coming: Winter Love, True Love, First Love, and the one and only Tree Love! The "rowdy" one? First Love. This is the brightest yarn I've ever dyed. You and I - we wouldn't wear it on a bet (well, I wouldn't), but make something for a little girl in love with princesses and pink...woo hoo! She'll actually wear it.

Miss P wouldn't wear it, however, because she is not into woolly things. Given that she lives in Minneapolis, it wouldn't hurt to have nice toasty socks, but Miss P is Miss P, and that's that. I'm not nutsy enough to make her socks that will never get worn. And Princessa Rosie? The yarn doesn't have sparklies so she wouldn't wear it either. Fussy kiddles. And the Benster and the Alexer? What, are you nuts? What boy would wear fuchsia pink?

As for the others, I'll let you guess. And you know that there's a lot more love going to happen. Just wait until the green month. I'm on a roll here. Maybe a hard roll, or a mushy Parker roll, but not a bagel. The vinegar has gotten to me, as you can tell. ;-)

If you've nothing better to do, take a look at my link to DIY planner (over on the right on the top). This is so cool. Organization is not my skill,and given that I was a librarian, that's surprising. My idea of organizing something is to make a nice neat pile somewhere. Hubbo does the same thing. Every now and then, we have company which means that the piles get put away, shoved under something, or plopped on the sun porch. So maybe I'll turn over a new leaf. Or not.

Deniasha - That's carrying pile organization too far. Those of us who are disorganized have a duty to others to continue in our downward slide towards slobbiness. Here's the thing: if you're neater than me, you can feel quite superior to me. That's pretty good, no? If you're sloppier than me, you can then look up to me. It's a win/win situation. But, if you are a major pita and entirely too neat, nobody will love you.