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it monsooned the other day here. of course the second the rain started coming down hard, the cat decided she needed to go outside. i thought she'd hang out under the overhang watching the rain and staying dry, but she disappeared for over and hour. there was a massive amount of lightening and thunder, and i was sort of worried. i mean, what if the cat got hit by lightening? that would make me a collossal jerk for letting her out in the first place. she came inside happy and soaking wet later, let me rub her down with a towel, then insisted on getting me all wet by sitting in my lap and licking herself clean. such a strange little creature.
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i enjoy lambics. this was the first time i had the cherry, and it was lovely. nothing like a nice fruity beer while a girl gets some knitting done.
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then! the saddest news of the week, that sweater i'm making had to be
frogged. the whole ten inches, ripped out and started over again.
goddamn. i made a very amatuer mistake, using the wrong size needles for the body. when i realized what i'd done i spent some time measuring the piece, trying to figure out if it would fit the way it was, trying to convince myself i could forge ahead and everything would be fine, but in the end i realized it was going to have to be ripped out. i'm not going to spend upwards of $100 and countless hours working on a sweater that doesn't fit and makes me sad to look at. ripping it all out was sad at the time, but it's a temporary sort of sadness. once the sweater is done and lovely and my favorite thing to curl up in i'll think aobut the frogging and be glad i did it. i hope!
last night a boy i sort of know harassed me all night long about making him a sweater like the one has now and loves, but i told him over and over again NO. all knitters know that you only make sweaters for people you are married to or are related to. sweaters are a big deal, they are work and stress and the ultimate sign of "hey, i like you." some boy i
kind of know is not getting a sweater from me. "but i'll buy the yarn!" um, no. you can't give me back the hours it will take to make it, and plus, you haven't bought me a big, shiny ring. you aren't my cousin, my kid, or a sibling. you do not qualify for a sweater. the end!
1 comment:
this one isn't getting a sweater until i've hung on to him for a million years.
does that pestering boy have any idea how interminably long it takes to make a fucking sweater, even if you're a fast knitter on addi turbos? tell him he needs to knit a six foot scarf before those words ever leave his mouth again.
plus, then there's the sweater jinx.
love, chew
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