You may be a Dork if.....

1) You received an invite to join the new and acclaimed 'Ravelry' but it sat in your inbox for three weeks, unnoticed. Then, you tried to get on the list to join, again, and when checking to see where you are in the queue to be added, you had to get the (I'm sure rare since practically EVERYONE wants to try this forum) 'hey, doofus, we let you in a long time ago so get on it, mkay?' message.

2) It still took you a week to get it done. By the way, I'm just farmwitch there. They stripped me of my dash. Dammit.

3) You got up extra early to finish the last few rows on Clue 5 just to experience the unique pleasure of downloading the next clue having already 'caught up'. Really, I should get extra credit for this, non? Oh, and thanks for the encouragement and sage advice of the comments on my post when I was considering flunking the MS3 stole. While the cat scratching was a real inspiration killer for me, some wise people said to hang in there for the right reasons. ONe of those is that I am learning so much about lace. It's like, a light came on. Me, having an epiphany about lace. I hope my high school Geometry teacher reads this. She hated me and that year pretty much gave me a 20 yr. allergy to graph paper, shapes and dashes. I was a straight A student from the wrong side of town and my honors program was my only hope at a scholarship. This woman hated me. Of course, I sucked at geometry, too, but she wasn't jumping up and down trying to help. Instead, I got my first 'F' ever and was moved to another track - the 'you will pay for your schooling with loans, now - loser!' track). For some reason, I want her to know that knitting lace has healed those long suffered wounds. Lately, when my arms are too noodley to spin and the carder would interrupt hubsters rock-crushing snoring blissful slumber, I think and play on graph paper. Bet she didn't see that one coming! Also, I'm luvin' the stole. And I think Ms. Melanie deserves many thanks for putting up with our cranky and sometimes demanding selves and still giving us a unique knitting experience.

4) Your sheep are so 'people friendly' that they tackle you for love. A side note, here, because you knew there would be one, on why we call the sheep by their tag #'s. They were there when we got them. The couple we bought them from were in the midst of a very uncomfortable divorce and we didn't think they wanted to walk us through the herd selecting 'real names' so we just call them their number. Plus, thing 3 was much younger then and we feared he'd had trouble remembering all the names. He wasn't reading alot, yet, so being able to read the number on the tag made him feel real good. He likes the sheep - alot. #2 is bold in her need for luvin'. Not in the aggressive or mean way. But, when she is let out to pasture each morning, she likes a scratch on the head. If hubster declines, she rubs herself all over him - as if to say, give it away, or walk around smelling like me all day, buster!. Sometimes she rubs his arm first so she can spill his first cup of precious brown elixir. Organic, no less. #7 has a different approach. Ignore her to your own doom. Is she a violent sheep? No, unless you count the tactic of making you feel like such slime you want to slam your head in the car door a few times. If you don't pet her, she stands, head hanging down, starving herself - it is painful to watch. So, you walk all the way out there, pet her, and she perks up and catches up the the others - eating and chomping away the day. Today, thing 3 beat us out of the gate - I presume to be first at anything because when you're the baby of the family - you always feel last. #2 ran up to him and gently nudged him (or it would have been gentle if he was hubster). He promptly fell over. She panicked and began sniffing him. #7 was standing there looking from him to her as if to say, 'Now look what you've done! First you shrunk him, then you killed him". Because, you know, sheep like to take their time figuring things out. There was no harm done, apart from the fact that thing 3 laughed so hard he had to come in and get some water and both of the girls still look shaken and confused. Still, they stood by the fence and waited for their morning hubster luvin' before they'd start devouring all this darned grass that has me huggin' the tissue box today.