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I made this one special for Dorothy, because she bought nettles. With money!
I didn’t realize people would do this.
Seattle-area knitters, if you would like to sample the delightful delicacy, hair rinse, and/or allergy cure which is the stinging nettle (Urtica dioica), drop me a note. I will totally trade you for yarn.
I guess I could even mail some to out-of-state knitters. Even though the idea of paying good money to mail stinging nettles to someone I actually like just blows my mind.
Nettles are a pest out here, like dandelions. I could probably pick like a pound of them without ever leaving either the lawn or the bare, packed dirt of the drive. (I would deliver unto you only the tops, for I understand this is how it is done. As opposed to how they usually end up after my ministrations, which is to say a two-foot stalk dug up with a big clump of dirt at the roots, stacked on the burn pile.)
Nettles here; nettles there; nettles everywhere! They even pop up in the yard, which is an argument in favor of never going barefoot if I ever heard one.
I hate them with such a fiery passion that it spills over to non-combatants like this weed. I don’t know what it is, can’t find it in the weed book. It’s probably harmless, but the thing is, it looks sting-y. So I hate it, too.
In Very Small Strawberry news, that new leaf is really taking off! Here, the Very Small Strawberry poses with the orange kidsox for the Dulaan Project:
This morning I looked out and saw - hey! A flower bud!
You know what that means? I WILL HAVE A STRAWBERRY! I’ve never lived anywhere I could have outside plants, so I find this exciting. Disregard that you can just buy strawberries at the grocery store.
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