to everything there is a season

There's a time for you to do the talking.

And a time when it's the yarn's turn to speak.

There's a time to interject.

And a time to hold your tongue.

There's a time for me to go the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival.

And a time for me to weep.

There's a time for you to visit booth D2 in the Main Exhibition Hall to get all this good stuff (plus things like Georgia Peach, Estuary, and Father Time).

And there's a time for me to sleep.

There's a time for you to visit the hundreds of skeins of yarn at Cloverhill Yarn.

And there's a time for you to take your picture with it and send it to me.

There's a time for the Yarnista to keep rambling needlessly.

And a time for her to let the yarn do the talking.

There's a time for me to tell you that there are sets of mini skeins of all nine spring rainbow colors.

And a time for me to just let you visit and find out for yourself.

There's a time for me to figure out how to get you your own spring rainbow if you can't go to MDSW.

And a time for me to take suggestions on that topic (now is fine).

There's a time for me to feel bad about the fact that I can't go to MDSW this year.

And a time for me to be happy for all of you that are going.

Have fun, awesome peeps. I'll be there in spirit.

yesyesyes

That's what I thought when I saw Cosmo with Mimosa and Creamsicle:

(That was my first thought, no lie.)

And then a descending, "yessssssss" when I saw the pairing of Mojito and Cosmo.

But today is about the final pieces of the puzzle, the last two colors of our new spring rainbow. Tomorrow, I'll show you the whole shebang all together, as well as some pictures of what you'll find at the Cloverhill Yarn Booth at the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival. (I'm not going! I hate it!)

Keeping with our sounds good enough to drink theme, here's Ice Blue Raspberry:

Blue with hints of pale plum. Not quite periwinkle, more like Ice Blue Raspberry.

More like I love it.

Here's the final chapter, Curaçao:

Turquoise, like the waters of Curaçao.

Last, but definitely not least.

supercalifragilisticexpialidocious

If you say it loud enough, you'll always sound precocious.

Cosmo is bright lipstick pink with subtle shadings of vermilion and magenta.

It looks so yummy with other things (Creamsicle? Mimosa?)

I want many many articles of clothing made from this color.

You'd be surprised at what pink does for the following colors:

• Red (Indian saris -- magenta and crimson!)
• Orange (very tropical)
• Yellow (happy!)
• Green (when paired with Mojito, this looks like a watermelon)
• Blue (especially turquoise)
• Purple (light purple is sweet, deep royal purple looks regal)
• Brown (sophisticated)
• Black (tres boudoir!)

So when the cat has got your tongue, there's no need to dismay.

Just summon up this word, and then you've got a lot to say.

supercalifragilisticexpialidocious = Cosmo.

Yes.

That's what I'm going with.

Mmm.

Mmmhmm.

Creamsicles and Mimosas.

Beautiful shading, no distracting pooling.

Golden yellow with pale cantaloupe frosting. My dad took one look at it and said, "Creamsicle."

A little Mimosa is nice at any time of day, is it not?

A little cantaloupey orange with some pinks and some golds. Kind of like a dialed up Creamsicle.

Is cantaloupey a word?

I guess it is now.

Listen: I'm not a huge orange fan. But this is one of the good oranges.

Both of these will be available at the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival (Cloverhill Yarn Booth) and at retailers soon.

Lordy lordy.

Today was a day.

A busy day.

A good day, but a bad day.

One of those days when you:

• run out of labels
• run out of tape
• find out your website has been down for two hours
• run out of energy
• discover that your printer is malfunctioning
• run out of ink
• run out of paper
• can't find your hole puncher
• know that you're under a huge deadline and a giant job must be finished by 4:30, no matter what
• find that a huge percentage of the yarn you're trying to get ready is TANGLED, DAGNABIT.
• run out of patience

And then, despite all of the headache, you watch your baby, the biggest shipment of yarn you've ever prepared, go sailing off in a truck, neatly tucked into its cradle box, and you feel a teeny bit of relief. And you eat some cookies and drink some tea. And you know that everything will be OK, and that tomorrow the printer and labels and tape will not seem like such a big deal. Really, in the grand scheme of things, not being able to find your hole puncher is pretty miniscule.

So it's been a day, a good day and a bad one. I think those of you heading to the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival next weekend will thank me.

How about you?