Sisters and Good Friends.

I am blessed. Sometimes sisters and good friends save us.

They make us laugh and walk along with us in the memories of our pasts and the silliness of our present. My sister posted this comment yesterday.

"I was just reading about your adventures with the fleece. I wonder if Grandma did hers in the boiler thingy - can't remember what they called it. You know the one where they dipped (wasn't there a term for that too) the chickens before plucking, and the one where they made lye soap. You know, down by the swing in the tree, by the water pump. Maybe Mr. Needles could set up one of those for you if you decide you want to do this frequently. And wasn't there a still a little further back in the bush too? You have a little space where it might work. Sheesh, talk about the thinking."

The boiler thingy was a big barrel, the top to be filled with water, the bottom filled with a nice little fire to heat the water. And yes did I ever wish I had one. And do I ever. I was just looking at the bags of fleece, and there are 4 more, not three, though I doubt they are whole fleeces. With a big barrel contraption, I could do it all in a day. (Mildly, wildly optimistic guess)

And yes, I do recall hearing something of a still being back in the bush when we were kids. It was the one restricted place on the farm. Well that and Grandmas garden in pea season, but I have to ask if you mean I need the still or the boiler barrel thingy (You can punch me in the shoulder next time I see you for that) and would it be wrong if my answer was probably both?

I have the most amazing bunch of friends too. My friend commenting on a this day in history type item noted,

"And may I point out that the G family has visited the site of the Hindenburg crash in Lakehurst, NJ. Whenever the kids complain that we've never taken them to Disney World, I remind them of that."

Which is, in my blatantly not humble, early morning, low coffee consumption frame of mind, the funniest thing I have ever heard, in a coffee snorting keyboard destroying sort of way.

You made me laugh, and I thank you, dear sister and kind friend.

The wander down memory lane and silly land is just so much better than a screed on how a gauge of 27 is not the needed gauge of 22 and how, yes you do have to try it on bigger needles.

Fer crying out loud.