Knitting

Blue Monday?

IS IT REALLY?

I read a Facebook post this morning naming today as “Blue Monday“.  Since I’d never heard of this before today, a quick Wiki search yielded this, “Blue Monday is a name given to a date in mid-to-late January stated, as part of a publicity campaign by Sky Travel, to be the most depressing day of the year.  However, the whole concept is considered pseudoscience, with its formula derided by scientists as nonsense.”  Thanks Wiki, I owe you one.

BY THE BOOK

I’ve several “balls in the air” as far as reading goes.  I’m listening to two very different books, one of which is Shirley Jackson‘s  Haunting of Hill House, an old school horror story and Danger to Self: On the Front Line with an ER Psychiatrist, by Paul Linde.  I call the Shirley Jackson book old school because, at least so far, it relies on the setting, the reactions of the characters and creepy foreshadowing to send chills up the spine, instead of blood, guts and over-the-top violence found in a lot of current horror stories.  I suppose what I’m really trying to say is that the creepiness of Hill House is psychological, with ideas that hook themselves in your head, that can’t be shaken, becoming more and more poisonous, malignant and frightening as time goes by.  I’m telling you, it’s creepy.

I FIXED IT!

So, I had this crocheted, summery sweater that I loved  and the last time I wanted to wear it, I noticed that it had a huge ladder across the back, where apparently a stitch had come undone or dropped or some such thing.  I temporarily arrested it with a safety pin and put it aside with the promise to myself that I’d give it a good look, figure out where the problem arose and fix it.  Today I gave it the look I’d promised, decided it was similar enough to a dropped stitch when knitting to try the crochet hook method, and IT WORKED.  It really, really WORKED!  It’s not perfect but it’s so much better than it was, I’m really rather proud of myself.  Take a look and tell me what you think.

Before

After

Yep, more than a little proud of myself.

One joy dispels a hundred cares.  Confucious

B

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