Oh, I wish I were a little bar of soap. Bar of soap.

I cracked Mason Dixon Knitting last week. I read this often because it's like having a little bit of Ann and Kay in your hands and really, what could be better than that? (Man, do I ever sound like a freaky stalker lady.) However, I hadn't yet knit something anything from the book.

I was thinking that I should make something for Rob's sister, as a thank you for letting us crash her house for a bit. We are travelling to visit her and the rest of the family in a few weeks. It's a family reunion, Kentucky style. Rumor has it that there will be some mullets in the house. Being the token Northern Person they think I'M THE WEIRD ONE. All I know is that I'm going straight for the Banana Pudding* screw Southern Hospitality, get out of my way.

Back to Rob's sister. Cathy loves lavender so we often take some yummy smelly something. I thought that I would bring some soap this time around. What better to go with a bar of soap.

A Warshrag.

Genius. Pure Genius.


* The best Banana Pudding I've ever had? Holiday Inn, Athens Georgia. Crazy. I never would have known it was there. All unassuming in its creepy hotel restaurant buffet. I discovered this jewel while on jury duty. They took us out to lunch every day and, fortunately, Athens has a plethora of fabulous soul food locales. I never would have taken the Holiday Inn for one of them. Apparently some old lady who lived in town got up to make it every morning. Pure bliss. I dream about that Banana Pudding. I also sing this song about day old banana pudding (I think it's by Southern Culture on the Skids?) every time I think about eating Banana Pudding. Clearly I have too much time on my hands.