tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1773661150358042033.post2903528798567940654..comments2023-07-18T10:01:00.334-05:00Comments on Today Again: PossibilitiesMamaMidwifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12896735513158371547noreply@blogger.comBlogger5125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1773661150358042033.post-75491143204552943012010-05-17T18:20:45.082-05:002010-05-17T18:20:45.082-05:00This post made me smile. I'm not crazy after a...This post made me smile. I'm not crazy after all. Or maybe we are both crazy together... I think about my yarn and what it can be ALL THE TIME. Casting on is fun, and I enjoy knitting it into something. I love giving it away after I have turned it into something useful. But there are few things as exciting as a new ball of yarn. (And that clover colors made an awesome hat for my cousin last year. The colors came out in unexpected ways. Very fun yarn.)Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1773661150358042033.post-9969972536625375642010-05-17T03:47:39.206-05:002010-05-17T03:47:39.206-05:00So she touched me 3 times. But that's out of 8...So she touched me 3 times. But that's out of 8 years. :)happydadhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07542979302674793773noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1773661150358042033.post-53414487697679200572010-05-16T13:14:03.061-05:002010-05-16T13:14:03.061-05:00Hey happydad... yeah... about that "touching&...Hey happydad... yeah... about that "touching" comment... what # papoose is this?In A Sea Of Boyshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14742047884446949552noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1773661150358042033.post-77616603504496169502010-05-16T09:56:35.256-05:002010-05-16T09:56:35.256-05:00If she would touch me as much as she touchs the ya...If she would touch me as much as she touchs the yarn, I would turn happy colors too. We go on rides and she never sees what is going on aroud us. It is a sickness. If I just sat and looked at a bunch of sheep hair I'd be locked up in a funny farm. But for some reason this is normal in the world. I will never understand. It must be like when I get a new gun and I have to touch it and feel the cold steel in my hand. Then I take is out to shoot it the gun warms up in my hand and we fit together like a glove. But the only thing that I see in my dreams is blood spatter. Now if that don't freak you out, you need to come out with me and shoot.happydadhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07542979302674793773noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1773661150358042033.post-7477462825008590832010-05-16T00:24:52.468-05:002010-05-16T00:24:52.468-05:00Wow. Yarn freakin' rocks.Wow. Yarn freakin' rocks.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com