Aren't You Great? Take A Bow The Lot Of You!

Honestly, I don't think I'd have got through last night's disasters and fiascos without you rowing in like that. You really are the best. To every single one who sent support, advice, encouragement and affection, big loves and hugs. If I haven't emailed you personally yet, I will. I'm still recovering.

I have to say that although Blogger has created huge amounts of hitherto unsuspected stress, it has also given us - me anyway, and surely you too - the most incredible surge in friendship, sympathy, interlinking and understanding. How else, in heaven's name, could we have someone in the deep snows of Northern Canada sending guidance on html usage on a webpage to someone she's never met, in damp West Cork? How else could we have pages of technical guidance from Texas, essential email addresses from Oregon, affection from Iowa, love from Louisiana, witticisms from Washington, all flashing through the airwaves in moments? Get up right now each and every one of you and take a big bow. Rest assured I'll be there for you too, in your moment of need.

Speaking of which, have you read Lene's latest posting? Lene, what you wove was so beautiful that I would rest happy for the remainder of my life if I'd made it; but you have such incredibly high standards that you weren't happy with it. Take a rest for a day or two, sweetheart, and then come back to us refreshed and happy. We all have days when we hate fibre art with every - well - fibre really - of our being. But give us a break and a bar or two of chocolate and we're fine again. Leave us, you cannot. We need you and your beautiful work - and words - too much.

When you have more projects on hand than you can even remember, and at least three that you are working on at the same time, and a friend (a friend?) emails you with news of a great new knitalong that you have to join, naturally you do the only thing possible. You say graciously, so nice of you to offer, but I have too much to do. Sorry darling, maybe next time.

Which is why I am now signed up to Sock Madness - at least I hope I am, I haven't heard back from them yet, maybe they were shocked to hear from Ireland, you think? - but anyway I've grabbed their button and hey, I've actually managed to put it on my sidebar! Hope so anyway - can't tell until I publish this. Now I must hunt around for the Red Sweater and the TCC buttons and get those back on too.

No, it wasn't easy getting the new Blogger sorted out, and they of course were of very little help - thanks Wanda for giving me their email address (have you noticed it's not available through Help, they keep redirecting you in ever-decreasing circles), but all they said was 'have you tried Help?' With your guidance, however, I managed to sort the really worrying problem of the hit counter, and then worked slowly from there.

Now I'd like to know, and since you gang seem to know more than most, I'm asking you rather than Blogger - is there a quick way to put in links like those to Lene and Wanda above? What I'm doing now is going quickly back to a Notepad document on my desktop in which I keep the html codes for everybody and everything, and then copying and pasting it in here under the Edit Html function before returning to Compose mode. Is there a quicker way to put in links? Mine seems to go all round the houses. Advice and comments welcomed.

But back to Sock Madness. I must be insane (probably a good thing for this particular project). Angeluna, you have a lot to answer for. Your real name, I suspect, is probably Ayesha or She Who Must Be Obeyed.

Having dutifully emailed Sock Madness and ordered the rest of you to fall in as well (good on you, Pacalaga, Cindy, Jean...) I went down and hauled out my sock yarn stash. I should tell you that my stash is nothing compared to Angeluna's - come on Angeluna, get into weblogging will you, and show the rest of the world that incredible sock yarn stash of yours - but I laid out my favourites to see which I would choose.




What do we have here? Opal at the left, bought on Quadra Island last autumn - that was a fun trip. A glorious Fleece Artist medley. A delightful emerald variegated Cherry Tree Hill, with two Glitzes next to that - a dark midnighty one (hang on I'll go and look. It's actually Green Mountain Madness) and the Birches variation. Then that great orange hand-dyed from Yarn Yard, followed by a Socks That Rock - gifted by Angeluna - and finally another STR, in Nodding Violet, my contribution to the Blue Moon Fibre Arts vs Nastybank fiasco.



I am thinking at this stage that I will go for the emerald CTH. It's coming up to St. Patrick's Day after all, and a good bright pair of green socks would be a lot of fun.



Now listen, tomorrow I am going to go out into the wilds on my missionary work again. We Little Sisters Of the Knit Habit can't rest on our laurels or indeed on our handcrafted throws. We must always be spreading the message, bringing joy to the unenlightened millions in the dark world outside. And I am planning to head down to that bright little mission in Kenmare (Spin A Yarn) to see how they're doing and shed a few words of encouragement.



And I must bring a stack of Bibles. You must always bring the Word with you, and, though it pains me to tell you, and you may not believe it, they have no Bibles down there. Oh they have a few pathetic, paltry imitations, printed in the UK (no, I am most definitely not trying to slag you off, UK, we after all don't have any knitting magazines of our own, and our bookshop shelves are devoid of any craft text, let alone knitting books) but of the great and glorious Knitter's, Interweave, Vogue International, they know nothing. I might even bring my copy of the Gospel According to Lavold, but -



And here I am in a torment of self-doubt, self-questioning. Little Sisters of the Knit Habit, your Irish missionary sister wants to confess to the gathering. Listen and give me of your wisdom.



I am not at all sure that I can steel myself to give up any of my precious texts. They are so important in my own life - I gain refreshment and happiness from reading a little of this one or that at different places, at different times, as I go about my daily work. I know you do too. Can I bear to part with any one of them? How would I feel if I could not dip into Lavold for guidance, or see what Interweave advises in a testing situation? If I could not feel that surge of joy that comes from witnessing the achievements of Sister Gaughan or Blessed Zimmermann?



Maybe I could take them along and just let the new mission see them. Then perhaps they would be spurred to seek these texts for themselves. Is that not, after all, the true path to enlightenment? Not merely to accept from others, but to search for the truth oneself?



Let them get their own copies!



I will report when I return from the tiny mission in the West tomorrow.