I Thought Wrong

Well, I thought I was back in the saddle again - despite holidays and half-days for boys, a sick husband and missing-daughter-adjustment, I thought that 4th red scarf had tipped me back into knitting mode.

It could be because the light of my life is home, recovering from plague. This means a certain need for attention, but he's on the mend, and largely self-sustaining at this point. Okay, so we've seen Monty Python and the Holy Grail, 12 Monkeys, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Time Bandits and some back segments of Dark Angel. Can this possibly be the man who Phi Beta Kappa'd at U of Chicago? Departmental Honors? Stanford Law School? I think his fever may have fried his brain.

I'm a person who requires silence, and he's obviously not, but I still get dibs on the kitchen. And I've been trying. Really. But first there was this.














Then this.










Now this.














It's a clear case of desire out of sync with skill. The knitting equivalent of having eyes bigger than my stomach. Or something I suppose I can take some comfort in knowing I'm not alone. If you've read the Harlot today, you know something there is that doesn't love fingerless mitts. At least, not today.

Maybe there's a message here. Marco has been piling yarn in front of me, reminding me I still owe him a modelling fee.













Maybe I should take a leaf out of Kay's book and turn into all scarves all the time. Besides, I just got this .





















I'm pretty sure I can find something in here.