Woolybuns

Sort of a Public Service Announcement

Not something I usually do here on the blog but this involves bunnies in need.  Someone contacted me last night about two fuzzy rabbits at the MSPCA at Nevins Farm in Methuen, MA.  If you are looking for bunnies in that area, check em out:

Chester

Cocomoe

Finally!

They are fork stuck in 'em certified done.  As of 1:10 pm today.   About. damn. time.  I started these socks last May.  MAY, fer  cryin' out loud.  Other than the knitting class I teach twice a week, I have done no other knitting for months because I was keeping myself on task.  But oh. so. s l o o o o o w.   These socks are my trainer's birthday present.  Yes.  The birthday from May 2009.  Sigh. 

People.  Before you promise someone a pair of handknit socks, measure the length of their feet.  If they are freakishly long, promise something else.  Anything else.  Or at least use thicker yarn.  Size 0 needles with size 10 women's socks.  And the join on the circs sucked.  But the socks are done and my trainer's feet will do a happy dance today. 

My next knitting project will be worsted weight.

Fuzzy Cuteness

In this case, it means work for me. 

This is Hop Chocolate, a very pleasant doe with lots and lots of delicious fiber.  Also in full coat is handsome, though slightly shy, Mr. Tim Buck Tu.  And Hop Tart, a doe who really prefers to be left alone. 

All of them are on my schedule for shearing.  Tim Buck Tu is going to the knitting class I teach because my students want to see a bunny demo.  Somebunny will get a clipping here at home tonight.  Definitely not a nekkid to the skin clipping, though.  Temperature this morning was distinctly cold, a whole 6 degrees when I got up this morning.  All these bunnies have long enough coats that I can clip for 3 inch staple and still leave a good amount on them for warmth.   Hop Chocolate, if she's not already promised to someone, is now up for sale.  I also have a couple other bunnies available for sale: a pure German doe, 15 months old; pure German buck, good pet wooler, 2 years old; and possibly a blue silver marten doe, 2 1/2 years old, very nice wool producer.   I may be traveling south as far as eastern North Carolina soon, so if anyone along that route is interested, we can discuss delivery possibilities.  I also need to make a trip to Maine, possibly this week, so delivery that direction is also possible.  Contact me for more info.

Oops

I just got home from a night away, and had a ton of messages to listen to and clear from the answering machine.  So you already know where this is going, right?  Yeah.  Of course I accidentally deleted the message from someone trying to buy some angora.  I heard the message, got the gist of it, but needed to replay it to get the first name and the full phone number.  She is a knitter, said someone referred her to me, she saw a picture of the cinnamon shimmer and wanted to talk.  If you know who I'm talking about, or you are her, please get in touch again.  I am not ignoring you!  I'm just technology challenged.  And sleepy cause teenagers have no respect for quiet in the halls of a hotel at Oh Shit am.

If You Don't Like Bawdy Humor, Skip This

CC's breeder sent this to me.  I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

A new poem by Pam Ayres 
                  
 Oh, I wish I'd looked after me dear old knockers, 
 Not flashed them to boys behind the school lockers, 
 Or let them get fondled by randy old dockers, 
 Oh, I wish I'd looked after me tits. 
 

'Cos now I'm much older and gravity's winning. 
 It's Nature's revenge for all that sinning, 
 And those dirty memories are rapidly dimming, 
 Oh, I wish I'd looked after me tits 

 'Cos tits can be such troublesome things 
 When they no longer bounce, but dangle and swing. 
 And although they go well with my Bingo wings, 
 I wish I'd looked after me tits. 

When they're both long enough to tie up in a bow, 
 When it's not the sweet chariot that swings low, 
 When they're less of a friend and more of a foe, 
 Then I wish I'd looked after me tits. 
 

When I was young I got whistles and hoots, 
 From the men on the site to the men in the suits, 
 Now me nipples get stuck in the zips on me boots, 
 Oh, I wish I'd looked after me tits 
 

When I was younger I rode bikes and scooters, 
 Cruising around with my favourite suitors. 
 Now the wheels get entangled with my dangling hooters, 
 I wish I'd looked after me tits. 
 

When they follow behind and get trapped in the door, 
 When they're less in the air and more near the floor, 
 When people see less of them rather than more, 

 Oh, I wish I'd looked after me tits

Hoppy New Year!

This New Year's Day of Oh Ten is starting off the year right.  A brief bit of fluffy white stuff early on followed by clearing skies and relatively warm temperatures for January in southern New England.  Warm enough for me to thaw water bottles anyway, so the bunnies all get to drink to full hydration today.  I use cleaned out cat food cans for the days when temps stay too low and I'm never sure the poor little buns get enough water since the silly things are as apt to dump the cans as drink from them.  Or let them freeze solid before trying to drink. 

That's Hop Chocolate sitting on top of her hutch today.  She wanted to scamper around rather than pose for a picture but some head scritchin' got her to sit still for long enough.  She's over due for a haircut but the weather and an issue with my left arm keeps delaying her shearing.  

And this one is Bunnie Tyler, a pluckable bun    who is a French Satin angora cross.  She was supposed to be black but as she grew, stray white hairs started showing up.  I asked her breeder about that, as I'd not seen it before.  Turns out she has the silver gene, not something I want in my herd.  So this Bunnie does not get bred.  She is actually available to a good home.  She's friendly, always there at the door to her hutch looking for attention, and produces a nice spinnable fiber.  Email me if you're interested. 

Here's to you and a grand 2010!