One Event, All Seven Sins....

(With apologies to any Catholics, as I am not one and am merely stealing the concept to illustrate my Sunday)
We've got your basic sloth - between Cummington in the morning, a nap, visit from my father, visit to my in-laws, and a late dinner I did very little yesterday. I did finish the Big Secret Project in the evening, and need to block it. But that's not like a whole pair of socks, or a sweater or anything really productive. As a workday goes, it was seriously light. Then there was some gluttony in the form of Lamb Bits. I love Lamb Bits. I once had a long talk with an open-minded lamb-hater. We decided it's a matter of upbringing. If you were raised on lamb prepared properly, you will probably be a lamb lover in adult life. If you were raised on mutton or in complete lamblessness, you will not like it at all. Mr Wonderful and Girl do not like lamb. Girl can't even stand the smell of it roasting. When she was little, there was no lamb in her life because it was entirely too pricey for a single mother to buy. (She was, however, routinely subjected to liver, which was cheap) Her lamb-free lifestyle is sad, because I absolutely adore it. Roast, chops, stew, you name it. Sheep and Wools for me are really more about a quest for lamb than a quest for yarn.
Then there was a bit of greed. I covet this puppy. I want it. I don't even know why. Not as badly as I want the Golding Precision wheel, but I still want it. I own wheels. I am surrounded by fiber tools of all kinds. I want this wheel. I want to know that I can spin in the car. I want it so badly that I nearly convinced Girl to buy it for herself, knowing that I could use it when she was not around since it uses Ashford bobbins. Bad, bad mother. This is such an inexpensive wheel that it's practically required! I have a Hitchhiker Plan. It involves Mr. Wonderful and a hitchhiker fund. Which brings us to wrath. Mr. Wonderful. Love the man. Really do. To bits. I just get so angry when I cannot bring him around to my way of thinking - that 8 is NOT enough spinning wheels, that 9 is a perfectly sane number and that money is, after all just money. You can't take it with you. You know you'll probably make more in the future. So why not just spend it now? This inevitably leads to skirmishes. Because I am right. Of course.
Now envy.
We dropped some yarn off at a friend's house on the way home. They live in an old farmhouse complete with barn and sheds on hundreds (yes, I said hundreds) of acres in the wilds of Ashfield, Mass. They're the last house on the road and yards and yards from their nearest neighbor. In fact, you cant' see any neighbors. All you can see is this view, this scene all around of trees and grass and mountains.
And a tiny bit of pride, or something like it. It's fun to be recognized, and that's happening more and more. People are beginning to know my name. Then there will be a book...and maybe more people will know my name...and then my head will have to be popped to prevent it from getting too, too big for my shoulders...
Let's see that's six..ahh, yes, the seventh sin. Well, this is a G-rated blog so we'll just skip right over the details on that one.
Anyway - I saw bloggers blogging a blogger, and blogged them. Huelo, if you'd sit still for two seconds...just two seconds. And Jenna and Cirilia. We saw the Elkins clan but I did not get my camera out fast enough. And Chicken Betty, and Gail, and Betsy and her husband who took it on the chin with great grace when his wife of HOW many years introduced another man as "Mr. Wonderful", and a slew of students. Mary Alice brought two pair of cuffs - I now have a true collection, nearly 35 sets of the things, and I will be glad when they are gone from my space, which I hope is Wednesday. I saw a lot of yarn and resisted it all, succumbing to two bars of goats' milk soap. But I willingly enabled others in their yarn and wool procurement. Girl bought a big old pile of fleece from various places for use in felting. I especially love the kit she got from Winterberry Farm.
I am off to New York Wednesday night. Chicken Farmers take Manhattan - film at 11. Amy is coming along, and will prevent me from going out without shaving my legs, spitting in public, shooting squirrels in the park, and leaving the hotel with chicken poo on my shoes. I am going to see very important things for the very first time, like the New York subway system, a large book thing called BEA that everyone says will amaze me, and - most importantly - TIFFANY'S!! Girl has requested that I buy large dark glasses, a croissant, and a cup of coffee and stand in front of Tiffany's very early in the morning for a photo-op just for her. She also requested that I wear a large black hat and black sheaf dress. We'll see. I will unfortunately miss The Harlot Event, which is bumming me out. But I will learn a lot at this author's conference thing on Thursday...and I have always wanted to see New York...and Amy promised me sushi...so really it's a GOOD thing. I think everyone should go to the Harlot event and tell me all about it, so I can feel as if I missed nothing!
Totally cheesy wish - I want to go to the top of the Empire State Building. Is this not truly silly?