Dyeing Here

I'm preparing a dye pot of yarn to simmer all night and keep the milk room warm.  The stove, a gift from a colleague who didn't need it, has been a God-send in this weather.  I've had sweet potatoes slow cooking in it all day.  Sometimes I just leave the door open and the kitties sit on it, basking in the heat.  I used to keep a fence up but it kept falling down and I don't need it.  I've yet to have a kitty jump inside and get burned.   The oven prevents my pipes from freezing and the baby bunnies from turning into bunsicles.  I found the cashmere sweater I bought at the Pink Door thrift last year.  It's very light but so warm and perfect over a turtleneck.  No chance in wearing it to school where everybody wears tee shirts and has to have the thermostat turned all the way up.  I'm the energy stealth bomber who sneaks around pulling all the nozzles down to cold.  I had to laugh when I saw my Director doing the same thing.  I bought another cashmere sweater on the way to Pompey on Saturday.  Not quite the two dollars I paid in Norwich, sadly.  The Key in Cazenovia supports the Episcopal Church and charges a bit more.  Still happy to have it.  I picked up another Harris Tweed jacket to make into a purse.  Am having a terrible time putting scissors to these Harris Tweeds I've collected but it has to be done.  They are not doing me any good hanging around here.  I'll keep two long coats and the lovely green blazer Sharon bought for me.  On deck for what's left of today - some raking of the barn floor and sewing a purple pleather tote for my New Jersey fiber peep REBECCA who has patiently waited for it FOREVER.  I knew she should have taken the one at Rhinebeck with the strap that was too long.  I'll have to throw in some surprises for her to thank her for her patience.  The cold winter weather has slowed me down.  I was out at 6 with the doggies hoping to see the sunrise but it never came.  Gray and snowy all day long.  I took a spill when my feet shot out from under me while baby stepping down a slope going into the barnyard.  I landed on my rear but I swear my skull was ringing.  Wish it knocked some sense into me but not a chance.  To think I used to pay good money to race down snowy slopes on skiis and get clocked periodically.