Brushes with Royalty

The Dear One never reads the LLamas, which, of course, is her loss, particularly at times like this---her recently transplanted to the icy Great Green North Woods pal Kelly has got a new post at her blog. Big deal? Why yes. See, The Dear One "reintroduced" Kelly to the fine art of knitting (and I use "reintroduced" in the delicate sense of "Nancy reintroduced Sid to the joys of shooting smack.") And it's bad enough, given that Kelly is good friends from college with one of the two goddesses of the knitting movement (I always forget which one--I think it's the one with the hat, or perhaps Dixon). Well, to heap insult on injury Kelly tracked down and interviewed one of the other giants of the kniting world, whose book is supposedly going to be made into a Julia Roberts movie (yeah, I know, a crusading legal clerk/hooker with a heart of gold knitting between turning tricks on Richard Gere after secretly photocopying property deeds in the California desert is my type of a movie. So I suggested to The Dear One that the title of the movie should be "Hookers" and she looked at me all cold and ice and said, "Steven---I'm a knitter---you won't see me doing any low-class rug hooking around here!" Some people.)

Then she showed me this to explain:

Is it any wonder I sleep in the garage?