The fox who has been leaving tracks around here finally crossed a field of view when one of us was watching. It was a small, dainty, healthy-looking red fox who looked up at us--on the deck outide the bedroom--appeared to note the make of our binoculars, and then go on. Congratulations to it and its English relatives; I am sure something can be said on both sides (Rita Mae Brown is no fool), but I imagine it's a better day when you are not pursued by hounds.
Meanwhile, I do NOT have the February doldrums, I just want to be able to weave like Sara Lamb and use colors so I feel amazed. I gather the way to get better at something is to do it, rather than stare dully at the loom in the bedroom (Kromski harp), the loom in the living room (homemade with rollers), the loom with the stuck warp-weighted loom-warp on it (Dickinson inkle), or the disassembled Leclerc waiting for the loom room on the front porch. Or the Little Inkle from TornadoWoods, or the article in Spin-Off about silk ribbons.
I spun some essentially camo-colored Romney and I just love that wool. It is a whole different way for life from yak, even if it isn't as seductive to the fingertips. Now I am making a silly and un-delicate scarf with the camo-colored yarn and some nylon camo colored flash. It feels nice, anyway. Sort of the polar opposite to Sarah's beautiful lace.