Life is filled with both soaring moments and with valleys of despair. Success exercises the smile muscles and a slap in the face settles a frown in place. This week I needed to find peace. Not a high nor a low. Just peaceful harmony from which to move forward.
I've found my somewhat secret peace place. It is outdoors and in the shade. A calm place for knitting calmly.
Well, except for the squirrel who hangs out overhead and tends to nibble bark and then drop little chunks of it into the yarn.
Does that squirrel drop tree bits on the metal table with a melodic ping? Nope.
Does the wild creature take the treasures away and store them for winter. Not in my wildest dreams.
That uncivilized yet highly focused fuzzy tailed critter rips off tree bits and then takes aim for my yarn and drops the chips like a guided missile determined to destroy the integrity of my silk/mohair/wool blend.
On second thought, it is possible that I have finally figured out how Noro gets the organic matter into its yarn.
Yes, I'm certain that is the secret. Don't you agree?