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We’re back. That was a quick week, and despite real trepidation about how smart it was leaving Kidlette with my folks in wasp-infested Nebraska, she did beautifully. I had a fairly productive week of curriculum work, got almost no knitting done, met a Ravelry buddy for the first time, investigated the intelligence of acquiring a loom, and ate like royalty with my second parents. Result: I have two chapters’ worth of work done, gained five pounds, and came home with 3 more bumps of fiber than I should have (but it was cormo/alpaca blend in cadet blue, and a merino-silk-alpaca blend in riotous bold colors, and apparently alpacas know exactly which strings to pull to get me to take their fiber home with me). 

Summer is my least favorite season. I’d take a tornado warning every other day if it meant that the area where I live didn’t get above 90 in summer (and I’d take a tornado warning EVERY day if it meant the area didn’t get above 90 or have humidity above, say, 40%). 

Sadly, that combination doesn’t exist in Kansas. I flat-out hate summers here. It is hot. And not just hot – scorching, feel-your-hair-bleach-blond-just-taking-out-the-garbage, sandals-melting-to-your-feet hot. If anything’s going to get done, it has to happen before 10 AM. And if it’s not air-conditioned? No way. I am a pansy, folks. I would have failed miserably at pioneer life, probably dying of one of the Oregon Trail diseases before my parents would even have finished purchasing supplies at the general store in Independence, Missouri.  

So I am doing the smart thing: staying inside and knitting (at least until there’s a breeze). I may even bust out the spinning wheel AND the sewing machine until Mother Nature’s fever breaks. 

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