Ten thousand years wound us through pasture and hayfield

So I was going to talk about the sheep and wool festival.

I got distracted by wanting to defenestrate a colleague, wanting to defenestrate the tv whenever those ham-handed 'Psoriasis Speaks' ads aired, and wanting to look at my irises blooming.

At least the irises are pretty.

And then Blogger went down for some indeterminate period of time (12 hours?  24 hours?  I am not sure). The draft post I'd written in three days' worth of spare moments, and saved with the plan of adding links and such, disappeared.

I don't think I have the time, energy, or heart to try to recreate that post. I am neck-deep in Things I Need To Do And Ought To Be Doing Now Instead Of Writing This^TM. Please believe me when I say that today's title and linked poem were in fact brilliantly relevant to that post, even if they don't seem to be here.

So here's a picture of some yarn:



This is Painted Spring Farm fingering weight 90% alpaca / 10% angora yarn with no cutesy yarn name or colourway. It weighs in at about 60 g / 200 yards per skein. This particular skein is a lovely leafy green, and is as soft and fluffy as you'd expect something made of alpacas and bunnies to be.

Edit: The Blogger staff has posted an explanation and apology and it sounds like the vanished rant about unhelpful psoriasis advertising and the lost draft may reappear at some point. I am not going to chew on Blogger about this as I've found the service generally reliable (to say nothing of free) but it is amazing how much you notice when it's not there!

Donald Hall