My dog ate my homework

You know, the problem with a post such as mine last week is the expectation of achievement that, naturally, ensues. I mean, last week I'm flaunting a handspun, hand knit shawl and a basket full of hand-dyed yarn as if that could possibly continue to happen. It should have happened, but since Monday my days have kinda been like tossing a deck of cards in the air and spending the rest of the day chasing them in the wind WHILE trying to get your normal stuff done. There was the old farm truck that finally told us to kiss off and died on the side of the road. There was the late nights putting up walls in my studio so I can stop sleeping with my fiber. (Did I say that?) There is the unruly, screen ripping and, apparently, totally stupid cat who decides that she MUST rip the screen at 5 a.m. to make sure I wake up on the only day I could sleep until 7 this week. There were the natural fits of things 1, 2, and 3 in their daily lives of being miniature versions of their totally immature and slightly 'loopy in the brain' parents. And, the tree eating llama with the yet unplanted apple and pear trees and me scratching my noggin to figure out THAT one.

There has been very little fiber. Not much knitting. And, if there is any deity who will not spit on me when I ask nicely - perhaps, a nap. Of course, because I worship Nature, and she seems to despise me, we have made the lovely jump from cold, wet, crazy weather, to the whopping 84 degrees that the neighbors are enjoying. We, however, are on a high ridge of rock that soaks up the blazing sun. The people down the street have 84 degree thermometer readings and we creep up to 90. Suddenly, the shiny, silver metal roofing seems like maybe not a great idea. Sure, in the winter, it soaks the warmth of the sun and, therefore, is very energy efficient. Today, it's kinda like jumping in and out of the microwave. But, who doesn't love a red-faced, sweaty woman covered in animal hair?