Theoretically: many stitches, many words, many things to do...

If, perchance, there happen to be sixty-six stitches across the width of a latch hook rug...
And there happen to be ninety nine rows in this rug...
There will be six thousand, five-hundred, thirty-four pieces of yarn in the rug.
This would be the reason why the latchhook kit I recieved December 25, 2006 has long gone without any progress.
But I have managed to complete about 10% of the latch hooking recently. Enough to start getting the lighthouse in there.

If, perchance, there are five long lines and one shorter one per stanza of poem...
And there are, oh, about eleven or so words in each long line...
And about four or five in each of the shorter lines...
And there are eighteen stanzas in the poem...
There are about one thousand, sixty-two words in the poem
No small feat.
But I've memorized The Raven.

If someone should chance to check out approxiamately thirty books from one library at one time...
And one of those should happen to be about quilts, three (albeit one that wasn't very good) about basket making, hmm, I don't know; about a half dozen or more on crocheting and knitting, a tree guide, three -For Dummies computer books, two books on languages, three fiction, four or maybe even five weaving books...
And this person also needs to look up 180 words in the dictionary, do a report for psych class, complete assignments from when they were absent, figure out some wacky square roots, and complete a bunch of work book pages...
Well, needless to say, they will have difficulty getting everything they want to do done.
But I haven't managed to complete all this, yet, either....

Postscript: Hello, hello, hello. This is your beloved antagonist speaking here--Er, wait. Firstly, go over and read Harry's entry if you haven't already. Secondly, for your information, Lemony Snicket's a Series of Unfortunate Events (movie) is mildly beneficial for your knitting, as long as you don't try to eat rather messy popcorn at the same time.

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I don't know what in the world to title this post.
I just discovered the Yarnivore blog. (ETA: And do you know, I just might tag her.) I did a blog search originating at the blogger bar at Lace Rox! (which I don't think I've linked to, yet.) for nalbinding. I was one of the listings! Speaking of the blog, I have to link to the picture I can't get up, so here it is.

Here is a poem I wrote that is pure fantasy because 1: It is not snowing here. It isn't even really cold. 2: I don't have a spinning wheel. I wish both things were different, though.

Winter Morning

Shimmering, glistening
Bare brown branches covered with ice
Under the pale winter sun
Wind cuts the stillness
Snowflakes fly on the gusts
Light glints off drifts of snow
Swept by the wind as dust by a broom
A bird sings its solitary song
Perched within the pine needles
Its feathers fluffed
The only creature to brave the cold

The fire crackles, the wheel hums,
Whirrs to my steady treadling
Pale gray-threaded wool flies
Through my fingers
My feet dance like the blowing flakes
I watch the wool twist,
The wool sheared in the green spring
Scoured and dried by hot summer sun
Carded while autumn's leaves fell
And now spun by the fire
On a winter morning.

And I think, if I have any time, I am going to go to a nearby coffee shop, drink some tea or hot chocolate and knit on the Ash Braid socks, which are nearing the toes. (Maybe 3 rounds before I start decreases and I may be overestimating.) I plan to have them finished to wear on Monday, which is the day the library knitting group I attend meets.

(ETA: If one or more of my weird things did not seem weird, here's something that you probably will think is weird:

I grew up drinking distilled water and skim milk. I never really liked the distilled water, so now I drink spring water, but only certain brands. I won't drink tap or other types of water or other types of milk! )