Agan Tas-ny, us yn nef,
Benygys re bo dha Hanow,
Redheffo dha wlascor,
Dha voth re bo gwres,
y’n nor kepar hag y’n nef.
Ro dhyn-ny hedhyuUs ow camwul er agan py-ny;
Ha na wra agan gorra yn temptasyon
Mes delyrf ny dyworth drok.
Rag dhysoiy yu an wlascor,
ha’n gallos,
ha’n gordhyans
ys vyken ha bynary.

Watch it. It’s pretty. I bet you never thought a Cornish prayer could be so lovely, eh?

And moving on…

I finally gave into the sweet, enticing, siren song of the handspun merino that darlingbud sent me. Usually, I like to hoard handspun. This yarn wouldn’t let me. It followed me around all morning as I cleaned, watching me pitifully. Then I read the Harlot’s post on the trouble she’s having with knitting a pair of mitts. And, because the skein had been following me around, it read the post over my shoulder.

“Use me!” She cried, “Me! I promise not to be difficult, like that snooty alpaca! I’ll be good, I swear! I’m even the perfect gauge for those lace mitts you like so much,” and then it used the big, anime eyes on me.

And I caved. I swatched before pulling out my lace pattern and cast on whilst I waited for Mum to finish chatting with several Nursing recruitment offices. In the past week, she’s had offers for employment in New Hampshire, California, Oregon, and Washington. And I can’t get hired at the local Wendy’s.

Where’s the justice in that??

Anyway. I realised that the sun was actually out and about today, so I quickly took the new project, the mitts I love so much, and the pattern out for a quick photo:

I have a feeling I’m gonna love these mitts a lot. I wear my black ones so much that they are starting to get the most amazing halos. I had to (regretfully) put the handspun mitt down whilst Mum and I went to the UO Health Center and got my Peace Corps mental heath eval. Only the dental eval is left before I can ship it all off, and sit and wait for either rejection or acceptance.

“Where have you been?” The yarn demanded when I returned home. “I’ve been waiting for you to knit me for hours.”


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