August the 1st used to give me a sick feeling in my tummy. August meant summer vacation had only two weeks left. Now that I am retired, it means I will soon lose the sun on the deck. No sun means no drying of fleece so every morning I am out frantically picking locks out of the giant bag of Corridale in hopes of getting a winter's worth of spinning put away.
The good news is that the Jacob is almost gone. One more washing and it will all be done.
The bad news is I learned the hard way NEVER to walk away from the wash pots while they are heating. They make a big mess when they boil over.
I never knew a paper towel could catch fire from an electric glass stove top but they sure do-even in all that water and soap mess. I was glad The Mister was out during this little adventure. I would have never heard the end of it.
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