While chatting with my mom from an internet cafe the other day (I’ll get to that later) I told her that I lived about a block and a half away from 2 very dangerous things. This was intended to play on her fears for 30 seconds or so before I revealed that these 2 things are a yarn shop and a tailor with some beautiful coats on display. I am a mean daughter 
I went through the patterns I had scanned before leaving, and wrote down the requirements for 2 of them. After much awkward pointing, nervous laughter, and the shop owner assuming I could read Chinese, I walked out with 8 balls of green fuzzy yarn. All I could tell from the label was that it’s a 50-50 mix of 2 fibers, and weighs 50 grams. My intention was mohair, but I bought angora blended with something synthetic. Apparently the hubs’ vocabulary does not extend to synthetic fibers.
So I’ve begun making an angora coat, and in that respect I’m lucky to have a 30-hour train ride coming up at the end of our Lunar New Year vacation.
The first few rows of the coat.
In other news, I’m having trouble getting my little linux netbook connected to the internet in our apartment. I’m currently limited to John’s computer, stinky net bars with wonky keyboards, or coffee shops with wireless. I can only access blocked sites when I’m using my own computer, so those of you waiting for a response from me on Facebook will have to wait. It’s probably best that I haven’t been able to post anything for a few days, since I probably would have gone into detail about my 2-cipro, 4-pepto illness that is thankfully resolved.
Are you referring to your mother as elderly? That is not the first word that pops into mind when I think of her.
I’m sure my Hypothetical Future Children will make fun of me in a similar way.