I hate chiggers!

I really hate the little boogers. I don't know if you have these little critters where you come from, but here in Missouri, we have plenty! I'll ship you some if you want to try them out. You will receive an official certificate of insanity along with a box full of freshly mown grass, guaranteed to have chiggers in it. For the curious who still have some grasp on their sanity, this Wikipedia article explains a little more about the critters.

What this article doesn't tell you is exactly where the little boogers like to bite. They tend to go for areas with the most warmth, which in turn tends to be near the unmentionables. While I myself do not have any chigger bites in the areas in question, they are near enough to convince me to suffer in silence without scratching, at least in public. I don't feel like explaining exactly what I'm doing to the stranger next to me in line at Wal-Mart. Hydrocortisone is my friend right now!

For those of you who have left me comments on my previous posts, thank (both of) you! I did see them, I'm just not yet adept at figuring out how to reply to them.

I finished my pattern for Night's Candles this week and got it uploaded to Ravelry and to my Etsy store. Now that I've got it published, here are some pictures!





With most of my designs, familiarity breeds contempt. I usually like the combinations my testers come up with better than my own. While the ones I've seen in the testing phases are lovely, I'm actually pretty proud of this one!

I'm working on Miss Austen right now. Hopefully she'll cooperate with me. I'm making her in mohair and I really shouldn't work on her when I'm sleep deprived. I've already had to frog rounds 2-3 times. Blech. I haven't decided whether to self publish her or to submit her somewhere. Hmmm....

I've also come up with an idea for another shawl, based on this painting and the poem that goes with it, particularly the following excerpt.

There she weaves by night and day
A magic web with colours gay.
She has heard a whisper say,
A curse is on her if she stay
To look down to Camelot.
She knows not what the curse may be,
And so she weaveth steadily,
And little other care hath she,
The Lady of Shalott.



OK, OK, so it's not weaving, it's crocheting, but I really want to make one in this colorway.
It reminds me of the colors in the blanket.

Granted, the poem itself is rather depressing. I was so totally in love with it in high school. I also had a thing for Edgar Allen Poe. I think I must have been emo before they called it emo. Oh well.

Look at me, rambling on. I guess I'm making up for lost time. :D