The Cursed Yarn and I have reached a compromise. I will let it decide what it wants to be, and it won't make me lose my mind. Fair enough.
The paper's getting ready to roll, so this'll be brief. It's been a long week. The Thanksgiving issue has eight inserts, all of which have to be prepared by hand, one stuffed into the next and so on. Yea, verily, it sucketh heartily!
On the plus side, we're that much closer to being done. On the down side, my hands are going to fall off. No knitting tonight! Sigh. That's not to say we didn't get to do something fun. Some friends of ours got married and Himself played the Wedding March (or whatever it's properly called) for the ceremony.
On the banjo. Bluegrass style. It was very cool.
On another "Wow" note, knitting buddy L had her baby girl! Yay! Cuuuuuuuute kid, too. Born on my Mom and Dad's fortieth anniverary, the fortieth anniverary of "Cool Hand Luke", and the thirty-second anniversary of the sinking of the Edmund Fitzgerald.
Whoops, there goes the press, so there go I. Or something.