Chickenlips Knitting

OK, I admit that I've done an inordinate amount of thinking about this. After I finish this post, I'll stop thinking about it and let it go, so that I don't hurt myself. It's just that as a dyer, when it comes to naming yarn colorways, I try to come up with snappy ones and keep to Stitchjones' general theme of rock music. However, that isn't always possible, and I'm OK with that. Sometimes a BFL yarn will come out of the dyepot the shade of lilacs that bloom outside my bedroom window, and the yarn is dubbed "Lilac". No worries, all good. The crux of the matter, though, is this: A fellow knit blogger has made some cool looking socks with a handpainted sport yarn from the immensely talented Spunky Eclectic. Without passing judgment on the dyer for thinking up the colorway name or on the blogger for buying it, I have to say that the name assigned to this yarn bugs me. It's called "Monkey Farts".

Now I'm not trying to be Miss Priss here. I've been a kid, and raised a kid, and am still a kid in many respects, and I know that farts are funny. I still giggle at fart jokes. I even laughed at the little pooting Lego monkey in the photo, which was a nice touch. I'm aware that some form of flatulence is natural to every living being on Mother Earth. I just prefer to keep it out of my sock yarn, OK?!

Say what you will, that I just wish I'd thought of it first--but no. I might call such a yarn "French Toast", or given my preoccupation with carbohydrates and sweets I may do a little wordplay and call it "Banilla"--a cross between banana and vanilla, also very cute-sounding when said by a wee one expressing his or her preference of ice cream flavors. (I can sense this rant winding down. I've made my point and am now beating a dead horse.)

I may be just a tad out of sorts because I'm getting ready for the semi-annual jaunt to Spokane to visit the outlaws inlaws. And all the emotional baggage that goes with it is rearing its ugly head, so I'm sorry if I seem a bit grumpy. We're leaving Thursday morning and coming home Sunday afternoon. If I don't get another post in before we go, with photos of dyed stuff--of which there's been a lot lately--have a happy and safe Fourth of July, everybody, and I'll resurface next week with a much sweeter-smelling topic.

(Edited to add: Bleep me sideways! I forgot to wish my Canadian friends Happy Canada Day. Thank you, Yarn Harlot, for the reminder.)