Just Walk Away

Do you know the fairy tale, The Red Shoes? It's the one where the little girl buys red shoes that compel her to dance, will she, nil she. No matter what, once the red shoes are on her feet, it seems her feet have a mind of their own. Rather grim, really.

It's been like that with the green shawl. It's not working. I know it's not working, Yet I keep adding to it. The rose turned it into the Baby Bop shawl? I'll add a set of blue stripes. The green fought with the blue, bruised it, and brought out purple overtones (don't anyone dare say "Barney," here)? I'll add a set of yellow stripes. No matter how many times a seeming inspiration strikes and then falls over gasping pathetically, I keep knitting.

It's undeniable. The green yarn doesn't play well with others. It's a prima donna. A soloist, not an ensemble member. An isolationist, not an ally.

Then again, maybe if I add some red.

Why do I feel that, like a Hans Christian Anderson fairy tale, this isn't going to end well?