Tag Archives: Arches

Can’t eat it

Holly Doyne Posted on by

Around the office today was the usual collection of watchers –
The Spaniel, hard at work
and
Tiger Skin

Then there was the chance to briefly enter the Medal Room
The Medal Room
with walls lined with paintings, photos and shadow boxes of medals. Some are originals, donated by families, others are reproductions of the military awards of various key British Army Medical Personnel over the centuries.

Sock Wars III

Sent off this pair of Detonators knit out of STR Silky Tide Pool –
Detonators for Peety
toward the US while at the Mailroom this afternoon. Best I can figure, since I sent them out regular priority mail is that they will take at least a week and probably longer to arrive. This is fine with Peety, she is not in a hurry to be killed off. I admire her dedication, since she has finished up four kills. For what ever reason, I had so many flaking out around me that most of my time was spent doing little but chatting on the forums and waiting.

Arches

A Faux Chocolate Tunnel
From Wednesday’s adventures in Bournville. Passing under the chocolate arch, there was no point in taking a bite.

Leeds Castle

Holly Doyne Posted on by

The good thing about rain is that it keeps away some of the other tourists. Rather than give you long descriptions, I will just tell you to go here to read about the Castle, think about Henry VIII and know that people lived here as late as the 1960s. Yes, there is a golf course. No, I didn’t make any effort to take pictures of it. These photos are in gallery form. To see better, click the button in the upper right had corner of the post to eliminate the sidebars. To “bigger” a picture, click on it. I will build a page in the next day that includes all of these, plus photos of the grounds, the aviary, the duckery and the sheep.

Sock Wars III

The Obits continue. The shortest and clearest is

Helen:
Dead, dead, dead.
Darn, Darn, Darn.
Killed two before I perished.
By beautiful Tofutsies Yarn.

Rhonda:
Friends, Enemies, and Cannibals:

The Black Priestess of the Divine Faustus was slain, laid low by the hand of the most Fearsome and Deadly Tracy. Tracy is known (or not known) by her silence on the forums; rather than spend time in idle banter, she watches, she stalks, she knits, and when the moment is perfect SHE STRIKES! For her pains Tracy will receive incomplete socks in a really awful combination of pastels, but at least she will have the opportunity to try knitting with corn fiber yarn (Maizy).

The Black Priestess is survived by two large dogs, five cats and a rooster. The dogs are distressed by her departure from this life, but the cats think there is enough meat on her carcass to keep them all going for a few weeks, at which point they will kill and eat the dogs, plus now they have all that yarn to play with.

The rooster has a brain roughly the size of half a pea, and has no opinion on the matter.

This post is long enough. I will hold the fiber for tomorrow.

Oops, so this is Reading

Holly Doyne Posted on by

Sometimes one’s day just does not go as planned.

Right before bed, I had reminded the Mole that we needed to leave NLT 0700 since I really wanted to make dental sick call. At just a few minutes before I wanted to leave, I realized that I had not heard a sound from upstairs.

No surprise, he was sound asleep. Very unhappy when woken to find that he did not have an hour to get ready. And you think teenage girls can take a long time?

It was drizzling, trucks were doing strange things on the roadways, and we were listening to Wiskey Sour. The upshot was that I zigged when I should have zagged and didn’t notice till I saw the exit for Reading. To compound things, instead of just heading around the traffic circle and getting back on the M4 in the correct direction, I decided to attempt a short cut through Reading.

Two times around downtown Reading before we could get out of there (would you believe that there is rush hour traffic in Reading?) and we finally got back to the A33 and found the M4. Lost an hour literally driving in circles.

Needless to say, by the time we got to Croughton, it was after dental sick call hours. They took pity on me. Said I could wait, or have a real appointment time at 1300. I opted for the appointment and we headed off to run errands. Just as I went into the PX, the fire alarm went off. 20 minutes later, they let us back in, all still clueless as to why it rang.

Commissary, then a run by the library which was still officially closed. They are supposed to be finished with the relocation by Wednesday. Since I will be out of town next week figured it would be nice to return the new best sellers and at least some of the DVDs.

Got the tooth looked at. We decided to hold off on drilling a little while longer. I don’t mind a bit.

Came home. The rain is good for somethings.
Rain does some things well.

with the occasional glimpse of sky

Evening Sky

Sock Wars III

I am still watching the forums and howling with laughter. The dead are mounting and the obits are a hoot:

The Dead Dulcinea wrote:
Here lies Dulcinea Quixote de la Mancha, cruelly felled by a fatal case of Sox Pox!

She leaves behind her loving husband, Don (a good guy but seriously delusional), and their children Aldonza Duet, Don Dos, Juan, Pedro, Miguel, Angel and Sam (who bears a striking resemblence to Sancho, Don’s faithful but apparently not so trusty sidekick).

She also leaves behind her best friend Aldonza (the barmaid and part-time hooker), Sancho (we know what kind of friend he was) and a pet dragon, Spike.

Dulcinea loved the outdoors in the frozen tundra called Wisconsin, especially tilting at windmills. She pretty much tilted at everything else after Aldonza poured another one. When not tilting, she was known to wage war with socks.

She’ll be buried in the family plot, wearing her beautiful, Sox Pox Socks!

She leaves her craftroom of wondrous yarns to her knitting friends, figuring they’ll duke it out over who gets what.

Please feed Spike on your way out… you don’t want to walk past a hungry dragon!

and Tiny Tyrant:

Interred May 14, 2008 by Knit Picks Memories in Rocky Mountain Dusk
Tiny is survived by her husband who refused to get the mail that
day and spare her from her fate. Her three dogs, Cliff the Mutt,
Oscar the Dog and Scrat the Brat, who all allowed the mail man
to deliver the package and four felines who simply worry about
where their next meal is coming from since dad is absent minded
about set meals. Her stash is not available as she intends to
come back from the dead and haunt her husband and leave yarn in
all the rooms of the house and needles in the most unsuspecting
places.

I am sure that I will be “dead” sometime early next week. Must think of something to say.

Audio Books

Finished up Whisky Sour and started on Bloody Mary, both by J A Konrath. They are funny and Dick Hill is perhaps my favorite reader of all time.

Arches

No idea why this is hereand from the back

Right near the end of my road, a trail winds back into the woods. This arch, made of long dead greenery wound around a frame stands by itself. No clue how long it has been standing, nor why. Only near object is this strange looking shelter, tucked between two huge trees with toes dug deep in the earth.

tree feet

Sock Wars III

Holly Doyne Posted on by

What is Sock Wars III? you ask.

Well, obviously it is battle 3, following Sock Wars I and Sock Wars II.

It is the usual insane suspects scattered around the globe who all start with a pattern and target at the same time. Knitting as fast as they can, they post off their completed pair to their target, effectively forcing the recipient out of play. The idea is to knock off as many people (playing it forward so to speak) as possible before being “killed” by receiving a pair of socks from your assassin.

It has made a few papers – showing up on Reuters, and elicited some wonderful photos.

A lot of success obviously depends on the post. If your target is local, it is easy. If your assassin is from half way around the world, you might just be golden.

It was supposed to start off at 1200 GMT. Thought I had lucked out because the Supreme Commander lives in Northern Ireland.

The fates were against all of us. Not only had the SC suffered a major death in her family immediately preceding D= 0 , T= 0, but her email conspired against her as well. Large number of posts with mail merge seemed to equal a server hitch on her side. Perhaps the numbers hit the “gee, it must be spam trigger.”

End result was that almost no one had either pattern or target as the minutes of Friday ticked away. Only the fact that she placed the pattern up on the website saved the whole battle from crashing and burning.

My sense of humour is still intact. After all, I signed up late not knowing if I was still going to be playing in Sock Madness and with a pattern I can at least get started.

Would have been nice to have had everything, I could have probably posted off socks by noon tomorrow.

The View

Green Leaves on my favorite Tree

Arches

I just could not resist. Land Rover provided me with such a great opportunity at the Tattoo the other night. It isn’t just the US that is into SUVs.

LandRover DisplayOnly way out

-Holly