Need For Speed

I came perilously close to calling the United States Postal Authorities today. My hand hovered over the phone as I pondered whether this was a necessary course of action. Should I? Would I be taken seriously? Could I afford not to? How committed am I really to doing the "right thing?"

You see, on Friday the last, I placed an order with Sheila over at Tread Lightly Herbals. With the Weird Rash still flaring up at random intervals and preventing me from wearing tank tops or other appropriate summer-type garments, I was in need of some soothing herbal soaps for my dermis. Sheila makes wonderful products and has rescued me from my crusty self on more than one occasion. But, I have become concerned that she may have kidnapped one or more of her local letter carriers and is holding them hostage in her basement. It's hard to believe. She is such a sweetie.

But how else can one explain the arrival of my full order today?

My full order plus a few little extras for samplin'!

The US Postal Service is a fine organization who brings me packages full of all kinds of goodness. But they are not set up for this kind of speed! There was a Sunday in there for crying out loud. They don't even operate on Sunday! How does a package make it from Texas to Maine in such short order????? I am concerned. There is every reason to believe that Sheila has some sort of "hold" over the people at her local Post Office in order that she might continue in this amazing tradition of incredible customer service. I probably should intervene on behalf of the poor souls held captive and being forced to route packages according to her whims...

On the other hand, this course of action might affect the receiving of the soapy soothing goodness. What can I say? I took the low road. Bob The Letter Carrier is on his own. The Postmaster General will either have to pay the ransom or stage a daring rescue of some sort without my assistance. I like the speedy delivery.

I need the speedy delivery. Nothing else in my life is going at quite that pace. The lamb/silk blend plying continues. And continues. And continues. How is it that I can ply for hours and hours on end without coming any closer to being finished? Skeins are drying at differing rates in various nooks and crannies around my tiny abode. The air is humid with all the moisture being sent into the atmosphere.

Even hanging in the windows and obstructing my view of the world outside...I miss the world. I remain trapped at my wheel staring at twisting wool.

I am hoping that, with continued diligence, I can get this finished sometime in the next day or so. I am really quite pleased with the final product. It is soft and shiny. It is black in one light, soft purple in another. Just beautiful...but it would be even better in skeined and completed form.

I wonder if Sheila would be willing to loan me one of her captive mail carriers for plying assistance?

SA