The grass is always greener when it bursts up through concrete.

People are having babies that they don’t want, so it’s my job to find homes for all of the babies. I make a few calls, find some good families who are up for a few new babies, and then take off in my baby delivery car. The problem? The babies slowly turn into puppies during the ride, so I then have to talk the people who wanted babies into taking puppies instead. And I know I’m dreaming after the second baby turns into a puppy, but instead of waking myself up, I decide to keep driving. I eventually have to convince the families that I wasn’t lying about the babies being babies. That part is tricky, and my reputation is suffering.


(Scout was a little bothered by the fireworks this year, so we squeezed her into a tiny pajama hug capsule.)

The Tour de Fleece started on Saturday, and although I’m not officially signed up for any teams, I’ve decided to spin every day through July 26th.

On Day 1, I finished plying some Fairy Yarnmother. It turned out to be a light fingering weight, and I’ve named it River of Orchids.


After that, I pre-drafted Joseph’s Coat, which is a 50/50 silk/merino blend.

On Day 2, I spun two ounces of Joseph’s Coat. (I’m going for a thick and thin mostly bulky weight for a drop stitch cowl.)

Last night I was on a beach with my old church youth group and suddenly I was wearing a bikini and I wasn’t completely bummed out with how I looked in the bikini, which can only mean that this was another dream, because in real life I can’t type, say, or wear the word Bikini without wincing. I spent half of the dream jumping over sand crabs and the other half searching for a purple velour skirt to wear to the restaurant where I was planning on eating spaghetti.

This morning I took four girls out for breakfast and then to a craft store to buy puffy paint so they could embellish the t-shirts they designed late last night. Dawson’s Creek is on the television, because of a mysterious yellow stain on the jacket that I wear every day I am going sleeveless, and the Ann Patchett book I’m reading is inspiring me to create, and then create some more.


(I will not be creating pigs out of pancakes. It has already been done, and I’m not here to reinvent wheels.) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

6 thoughts on “The grass is always greener when it bursts up through concrete.”

  1. Must be something in the air. I dreamed that I was at a park, planning to offer a woman I knew a role in a Disney play (I have no professional affiliation with Disney, nor am I a casting agent in real life). When I arrived in the park it was fall but as I walked across the park, it was winter and her little boy was running toward the river and I chased after him because he was getting too close and she was far from him and he jumped into the river (in full snow clothes – including a cute little plaid jacket) and began swimming but of course he sank and I jumped in to pull him out (because I have assured my children that if I see them sinking while swimming I will jump in for them without regard to whether I am in my bathing suit) and I pulled him out of the water (which was difficult!) and carried him across the snow yelling “Call 911” and “Get blankets” and then my alarm went off.

  2. Thanks for sharing those dreams. It’s nice to know that I’m not the only one. Your yarns are beautiful and you’ve inspired me to take a knitting class, although I know that I will never be able to create the beautiful things you do, I can dream.

  3. The yarn is beautiful. And I’m pleased to see that other creative people dream technicolor movie-script dreams.

  4. I’m dropping everything to start a restaurant called The Pancake Pig, where you can only eat breakfast variations created in the likeness of our porcine brethren. I live in the south, so I think the business plan is sound.

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