Turn left at the sign

Welcome to Harlotville, where the sun shines all the time and everyone is noble and generous. (C’mon in. The knitters are fine)

Reasons to never leave Harlotville.

-LOOK AT THE TOTAL. Now go dance in the street. (I don’t know how we celebrate 20 000. Maybe dancing naked in the street? Other suggestions graciously accepted. It’s cold outside.)

Ben’s a pretty happy guy too…

Dear Stephanie and all the Harloteers,

Over 15 grand!?! This is amazing! Like somebody said above, knitters rock! I wonder if it isn’t time to set up TSF – Tricoteuses Sans Frontières or Knitters Without Borders? That’s what this international blog increasingly represents.

On behalf of MSF in Canada, the US, Germany and Sweden – among the various chapters that have benefitted from your generosity – I thank you.

And thanks also to Steph for volunteering to come in to help out on the phones yesterday and for telling the old man who gave $500: “Atta boy!” .

Sorry you had no time to knit, though…


That’s me in the back and Joe’s sister Kelly in the front. We are taking donations at a thousand miles an hour… If you are not Lene you may click


for a very harlot photo. Me, my knitting, the phone and a coffee. As is always the case in Harlotville…please excuse my hair. (Note: No descriptive discussion of the item in the photo will be allowed in today’s comments. The item in question is a present for Lene. You may say things like “very nice” but you should make every attempt to not blow the surprise. You may feel free to torture Lene with hints that do everything but blow the surprise.)

– Taking Ben’s suggestion to heart…the lovely and ever so clever Abby has made us a new button. Giddy up.


Steal the “Yarn Diet For Charity” one she has going on at her house if you are so inclined. It’s beautiful. As the mayor of Harlotville, I declare button making Abby’s superpower. In honour of Abby’s superpower, we will all save the buttons to our own servers, right?

My Your Mittaines Sans Frontiers have borders!


Good looking borders if I dare say so myself. The time has come to decide on a palm pattern. Here in Harlotville we have choices. A) Pinstrips. Never gets old. B) Something else, maybe dots. The stripes are totally getting old. C) Anything but the stripes. You always knit the stripes. Let the stripes go and move on with your life.

-Harlotville has the nicest neighbours. Have you seen Sandy’s mittens? Go look. I’ll wait here and think about stripes. Beautiful, yes? Despite the trouble that Sandy is having with these mittens and their roaming thumbs, she will finish them and when she does? They will be yours. Sandy has graciously donated the mittens to a random donor. Lucky people.

-Harlotville, with it’s fine neighbours also has an awesome postal service.

Look what Mia sent me


Lovely Mia! Very beautiful hats, and well knit! Mia tucked some chocolate into the hats…but, er….I can’t show you that right now ever. Mia…the pink one doesn’t even look very phallic on me. Well done!

-Harlotville continues to have accurate media. While news agencies continue to report that MSF “doesn’t need more money” MSF (like the Red Cross) continues accepting donations to their general emergency fund, sends relief to Aceh, Sumatra, aboard Greenpeace’s Rainbow Warrior, and begs you not to forget about the places that aren’t in the spotlight where suffering meets….and exceeds the losses to the tsunami.

Read about Northern Uganda, where there are more than 1.6 million displaced persons, the deaths rate is surreal, and 20 000 children have been abducted. Ben writes:

We think of the psychological impact of losing family members to a natural disaster but imagine the impact of being forced to execute some of your family members and then being abducted and made part of a crazy child army. Think about the people who wait nightly for a possible attack from this “Lord’s Resistance Army” and leave their villages to hide in towns where they hope to be protected.

This is ongoing. This is every day…and no-one knows.

Harlotville cares. Call MSF. Maybe I’ll answer the phone.