A wisp of smoke curled upwards.
"Please," she begged, "think about what you're doing. Don't pretend to yourselves that I'm just some witch; I'm not a stranger. You know me! I've been part of this community since I was born! Doctor Hepple, you delivered me. Abe, I have patronised your store for years. Gord, I've tended your garden since your wife died. Surely none of you can seriously believe I'm witch! It makes no sense."
Some turned away. Others watched on, stone-faced.
"Listen," she pleaded, "if you will only give me a chance I can prove to you that I'm not a witch. Go through my house! There's not an occult device or forbidden book within my walls. Think back on my history. I have never taken an opportunity to harm anyone. I have always had your best interests at heart. I've always looked after you. And I can do an even better job! Just please, let's not be hasty! Let's talk this through!"
One of the townwives arrived with a tray of fresh marshmallow, and began slicing it into cubes.
"God have mercy," she moaned, "God forgive you all for the sins you commit today. You shame yourselves. If you are the best of the human race, I hold no hope for the future. I curse you and your degenerate descendents! As you stand and idly watch me burn, so I condemn your spawn to waste their lives as they sit and watch the lives of others. I curse them to the hundredth generation!"
Tears sprang to the eyes of the townsfolk. They'd made the mistake of standing down wind, and smoke will do that to you.
"Please," the witch tried again, "this is all just a big mistake. You don't really want to burn me, and I don't really want to curse you. Surely we can work through this-"
Her monologue was interrupted by a messenger boy, bearing a bunch of roses. He sidled up to the mayor, and whispered a message in his ear. The mayor nodded, and accepted the bouquet. He read the card contained therein.
"Aha!" he roared, "evidence!" He waved the bouquet of red roses above his head and read the card aloud. " 'Hey baby, thanks for last night. You were fantastic. Love, Lucifer.' " The witch has had congress with the beast!"
The witch's sweat was evaporating. Her hair was starting to shrivel. "You know what?" she shouted through blistering lips, "I had congress with the beast! And I'm not sorry! It was the best damn congress that I ever had!" She looked around at the smoke-hazed figures. "Better than you, Abraham White, a woman counts herself lucky if you last long enough to penetrate her! And better than you, Mayor Jacobson! It's a shame that your cock never grew but your belly did!"
The witch continued in this vein for as long as possible, and the menfolk were mightily relieved when she started merely screaming.
Does no one have a favourite pub? Come on!
I honestly have no idea, so I've picked - pretty much at random - the Crown and Anchor. I hope that it's okay for everyone. It shouldn't be too hard to find a park, and as it's towards the eastern end I hope it will be fairly quiet. (Am I misguided?) I have no idea what it's going to be like. We seriously need a pub crawl.
If it's crap, then the Chocolate Bean (which is also licensed) is just around the corner in Union St.
As per usual, I'll be there from 1630.
PS: Now that Adelaide is smoke free - I'm looking for nominations of pubs.
PPS: I have taken a chill pill.
PPPS: It didn't work.
Thursday the 8th is the second Thursday in November.
Is anyone coming out Thursday night?
Not coming-if-their-wordcount-permits, not coming-if-they're-not-too-exhausted and not coming-if-they-can-be-arsed...is anyone committing to Thursday night?
(Failure to respond will naturally be interpreted as a negative.)
Not the whole day, just the knitting part. I'm not going to be responsible for the disappearance of a whole day (again).
Knit happily on at home, my heat-sensitive ones. The irony is that I have spent most of today huddled under a quilt. It was 'hot', so Lenny had the air conditioner on. Curse refrigerated air conditioning!
(I have updated my Ravelry, but forgot to include the Baby Surprise Jacket in the update. FYI, it worked.)
You know, it's not as easy to jump off a building as you'd think. The 'watermelon effect' is pretty unpopular as a form of road decoration, and so most companies that occupy or manage large buildings restrict access to their exteriors. Windows do not open. Doors to roofs are locked.
But when someone is determined, they (and perhaps their lock pick or crowbar) can find a way.
"Can you explain something?" said the Knitter (who hadn't volunteered for the job but had drawn the half-match).
"What?" said the Jumper, still looking down at the increasingly crowded street below.
"Why stand up here?" asked the Knitter, "I mean, if you want to jump - then jump. In fact, you should jump before anyone gets the chance to come up here and stop you. If you're coming up here just so that you can stand here looking like you're going to jump, then you're not really a jump risk, are you? So what's the point?"
"I don't expect you to understand," said the Jumper in a small, faraway voice.
"Good," said the Knitter, "because I don’t. Do you want to tell me what it is that I don't understand? Why do you want to stand up here not-jumping-but-looking-like-you-might-jump?"
Wordlessly, the jumper held out her hand. She clutched a piece of yellow yarn that the breeze flickered this way and that, like the flame of a candle.
"Uh-huh," said the Knitter, "yarn can be a real bitch. I can't say that I've ever wanted to top myself over it though."
Tears welled in the Jumper's eyes. "I went to where the Evil Knitters were supposed to be today. They were all gone. But I found this."
Realisation sunk in. "Dude, did you not read the fucking posts? No wonder you missed it. Evil Knitters was *last Sunday*, you moron."
"I can't read all the posts on my friends page," sniffed the Jumper, "and it's not like I read LJ every day. It's not my fault. I have other things to do. Someone should have told me. I mean, I do have a liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiffffffffffffffffffeeeeeeeeeeeeeee..."
"Not anymore," said the Evil Knitter as she watched the Jumper (or more accurately, the Push-ee) plummet to the ground.
Yes my precious ones, this Sunday - the 21st of October - is our weekend meetup for the month.
We're back in the Botanic Gardens, and with luck the weather will favour us.
Meet at 1230 at the North Terrace gate (or ring me when you get there if you're running late).
Now that I have shouted to get your attention, I'll say that our regularly scheduled 4th Sunday is being sacrificed for the Greater Good that is NaNoWriMo.
And I'm cool with that, because - you know - pancakes.
But in order to get a nice dose of outdoor knitting-in-the-wild before it gets too hot and burney, we will have our October Sunday on the 3rd Sunday rather than the 4th. That is a week early. It is also this Sunday, the 21st.
We'll meet at the North Terrace gate of the Botanic Gardens at 12:30. Bring your lunch. If you're late and the rest of us have already gone in, call my mobile. Sure, I'll lie about where we are and then laugh while we watch you stumble around in panic, but then it's called Evil knitters for a reason.
This post can't be a reminder as it's not something that you know already. I guess that makes it a...minder? The reminder will be closer to the date. Like, when people need reminding.
I have been searching online for a list of LYSes in Adelaide, and not having much luck. I thought that maybe we could put our heads together and come up with some. I am happy to edit this post if you can add more places in the comments.( South Australia - Your LYSCollapse )
Many of these places were find via Google, and some of them may be out-of-date (closed, moved, etc.) Please let me know and I will update appropriately.
For other than SA: KnitMapLast edited Saturday 2 February 2008
That tomorrow night (ie: Thursday 11.10.07) I will be giving away free yarn.
And when I say that, I don't mean a ball or two. I mean a shopping bag full.
It's in your best interests to be there.
Also, I'm looking for volunteers for a knitting pub crawl.
Although run ragged, he didn't dare stop; he didn't dare slow. He ignored the burning of his lungs, the stitch in his side, and the quivering of his tired legs.
Behind him the creatures bayed. He ran on.
He could hear now the sound of their many feet. They must be closer. He knew that to turn would mean to trip and fall. He concentrated on forward, not behind. He put all his energy into running.
As he sprinted up the driveway his only thought was to get to the safety of the house. Surely whoever lived there would not refuse him shelter?
He could hear the snapping of their jaws.
He ploughed into the door and tried the handle. It was locked, but bore a note. It said:
"2nd Thursday of the month is Evil Knitters, so no one is home.
Sucks to be you."
He barely had time to read it before jaws closed around his limbs and they dragged him away (in several different directions).
Sorry. I'm a bit flat today.
Thursday night is stabbing things with needles night! Bring your knitting too.
This will probably be the last outing to the Hilton as (from November) pubs etc will be smoke free! That should improve our options. So kids, this is your last chance to pamper yourself with a little luxury.