Thursday, February 7, 2013

Happy Feet, Doofy Dog

My happy feet, warmly encased in a pair of hand-knit, hand-spun, hand-dyed actual wool socks made by the woman who gently convinced me to sell off most all of my mutt sheep and invest an obscene amount of dollars into two Navajo-Churro ewes that have wool she can spin, knit and weave.  Many, MANY thanks to pal Shelly of Encinitas (near San Diego) for these special socks.  I am changing my will to make sure I'm buried in them.  And yes, doofus Sybil is there to make sure I notice that she has not yet ate these socks, altho she'd have to eat them off my feet to do so and that will not be happening so long as it is barely in the 40's out with snow forecast tonite.  But they do sort of match her eye

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