dear roomie

Dear Threadingwater:

Greetings from Madrona. So sorry you couldn't be here this year, but I understand that a party involving a new administration and hundreds of thousands of teary-eyed liberals was hard to turn down.

I know you were waiting to hear how things are this year without you and BlueGal, so here are some of the highlights:

  • That Hotel Murano – they sure are innovative! You gotta love a hotel that's willing to give glass sheets a go! Ballsy, that.
  • I'm happy to say that all the teachers are doing much better now: they were all air-lifted to local emergency care units in time, and the doctors say their laryngitis tainted with amnesia shouldn't be permanent. (Don't worry: the volunteers who run the registration desk are teaching them to knit again. Tomorrow, we're teaching Beth Brown-R how to purl. It's touching to see her try so hard. So sweet.)
  • All the yarn in the market has been lovingly pre-cut into handy 2" lengths. How thoughtful.
  • The nice lady with the Kakashibui persimmon dying (what is that stuff called?) is recovering nicely, thank you. Her sores should be completely healed by March. Who knew that overexposure to persimmons could do so much damage to human tissue? It's amazing, really, what we're finding out these days about that so-called "natural" dyeing.
  • Cat Bordhi, while miraculously escaping the laryngeal outbreak, has decided to abandon knitting and has taken up accounting. Her lecture on spreadsheets and the importance of single-entry bookkeeping was riviting for all 5 of us who attended her lecture tonight.
  • Stephanie Pearl-McPhee has donated her sense of humor to science, and is undergoing neuroscopic surgery at Johns Hopkins tomorrow first thing. They would have had it out sooner, but weren't sure exactly where in her body to look. (I say it's something to do with the hair – check out the scalp. But did they listen? Nooo.)


Oh, and the gal with the booth in the market selling Red Heart says hi.