'First Date'
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risque (and frisque), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
In brighter news, while in the hospital, I crocheted and crocheted and crocheted, and, don't tell Anne W., but I finished this poncho: [link] Here's a closeup: [link] I really am pleased with how it turned out. And I just love the yarn.
Edited to show that, well, at least Emily knows how to spell.
Most biopsies do not lead to cancer...my mother was, well, the freak, and she's coming up on five years cancer free.
but I finished this poncho:
What a cute little bug! Poncho looks great and I say that as a not-fan of the genre.
My mom is almost 20 years cancer-free, these days. And there's been lots better stuff since then....
tamoxifen. God, feeling like a House episode now. Except my mother never seized while getting radiated or anything...you'd think the ducklings would learn to fucking *watch* while giving the MRIs and shit.
((vw)) My thoughts are with you and your mom for her biopsy. It's good that they are sending her quickly but remember this is just a test.
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Nice try but pig fat is not evil.
Haram! Haram!Well, yes, unlawful. But not felony-inducing.
So, I take it it is not the wonderland I was lead to believe it was?They are only Wonderlands if you love racing. Otherwise? I suspect misery. Crowded misery.
{{{{{{vw}}}}}}
I love the poncho, though (and did you ever think you'd hear me say that?).
and did you ever think you'd hear me say that?
Um...nope. I was sure you'd come make fun of me :). I love it, though. And it was wicked easy. It was actually a knitting pattern that I adapted. But, basically, it's a big rectangle that you then stitch together. I like it, because it's basically like a shawl that is stitched together...it's staight in the back, which I love. And it's kind of cozy.
Count me in on the poncho haters who think this one is gor-juss. The colors are lovely-- they remind me of a summer sunset.
The yarn store owner had *just* gotten that yarn in when I came in. She talked me into it, because she said it would look great on me, and then made me promise I wouldn't give whatever I made away. I got home and remembered the poncho and thought it would be perfect. And, well, the rest is history.