Wednesday Wandering

The yarn revolution is in full flower. From seat coverings on New York and San Francisco subways to lamp posts in trendy West Seattle, soon enough yarncore hi-jinks will be as voguish as all-girls' roller derby. The significance of incorporating the anarchy symbol into the name eludes me. It does go well with the skull and crossed needles. It is entirely within the realm of possibility that the aestheticians behind all this are brigands and unwashed scalawags.

My little dream house, down the road a piece from the gal's West Seattle apartment. I'd love to pluck it up with my imaginary helicopter winch and go live on a plot on Mount Constance in the Olympic Mountains. A strategic cupola warms my heart.

"illusions Hair Design" sounds like the wrong kind of magic, Doug Henning wrong. This is the only salon in town to employ hypnotists and prestidigitators so the competition to lease a chair is ferocious. The air was flavored with something crisp as I passed, a crispy hint of potions. It could have been eye of newt but who knows what that smells like? Who among the unitiated mesmerists that compose the general public, I mean to say. I'd have gone inside to prove my hypothesis but fear of emerging again with track braids turned me away at the last minute.