Knitting

The one where she officially

loathes the Celebration Socks and the yarn they’re made of.  Here’s the story:  broke 1.5 Harmony circ somehow, overjoyed to find I have another one, knows without a doubt that it will be a cinch to get the socks onto the undamaged needle, no fuss, no muss, no dice.  It seems that no matter how hard I try, I cannot get the stupid things on the new needle the way they need to be; they are either backward (with the working yarn not at the first stitch but the last stitch on the needle), one facing front, the other facing back and countless other screw ups that I just can’t describe.  These socks are officially in time out, in a ziplock, behind a closed door, in another room.  This is to keep me from totally frogging them and trashing the yarn just so I don’t have to look at them or think about them ever again.  Can yarn be cursed?  Deep breath, let it out slowly.

We had a wonderful visit with Susannah and her mom (who happens to be our daughter, Lindsey) the past few days, keeping them company while Daddy (who happens to be Lindsey’s DH and our son-in-law) is out of town.  We’re back home in Little Rock now and I’m beginning to gear up for entering the real world again tomorrow. 

Here’s a picture of the cursed socks.  Don’t let their looks deceive you, these babies are evil.

Jeez.

The best measure of a man’s honesty isn’t his income tax return.  It’s the zero adjust on his bathroom scale.  Arthur C. Clarke (1917-    )

B.

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