Lucious plate of dessert.... went to my book-club bar-b-q in the hills, with the most wonderful group of women. Good food, larfs. Convinced J the host to put on a belly dance scarf, took to a hip drop like a natural, like we're all born bellies, because it just feels right as a movement to make. The food was wonderful and the company was refreshing and inspiring. I met some born again knitters who couldn't believe that the sock yarn I showed them was self-patterning. In the melee, I lost one of my needles, a 2.5mm bamboo short little toothpick travelling needle. Just another excuse for a trip to THE NAKED SHEEP




Put out my laundry this morning to dry. Could the pink/fuschia be a favourite colour? Nah, I only do my laundry every six weeks, so I have to do a more specific sort. But assembling it this way makes it so much more interesting to do... art as life, life as art.








Here is the basket for sock yarn. As indulgent as it is, I'm more interested in the left over bits, and what I might make with them. I was thinking of a pair of winter leggings, that I can wear on some cold day to work in a dank studio, or to slog through snow to shovel out the car, or on a trip home to Montreal. When I went to primary school, we wore uniforms. Under the tunics during the winter we wore leotards, which with one fall on the pavement would run (and I wonder why I hate pantyhose now). So these brown/blue/black leotards were mended many times over, and frankly provided no warmth in the winter. As little kids, jumping snow banks, and walking home (yes that was back when you walked to and from school unaccompanied), my legs were numb red, right up to the little foufouns. Aah, the warmth a pair of leggings would have provided! But of course you wouldn't have been caught dead wearing them at the time... ah the fashion tyranny of 8 yearolds


This is Malcolm, patron sheep of the flock. His painting is right beside the mantlepiece, gazing down benignly on those that flick the sticks. bah











My khaleegy dress came yesterday. Sheer, sparkly, flowing, and airy. Wish my dancing were that too. I know that my hair will toss better when I wear this dress. Failing that, it makes a great "hi honey you're home can I get you a drink" dress. Actually, that's my mother's line.