So as Krystal (that hobag) pointed out in her comment to my last post, I've had a bit of bad luck with my knitting lately. The shawl that never even made it to the blog was struck first. "Why would she stop with just four rows left to knit on the edging?" You may be saying to yourself (as if anyone but Krystal and Dylan and my mom read this blog lol). Well, I stopped because I had to. I ran out of yarn. Yes, I have to buy a whole new ball... a whole 220 yard ball... for four rows. *has the urge to impale herself on her needles* I'll just make a scarf or something out of it.
And then this morning I pick up the mystery project (so far un-named because I wasn't sure I liked it and was going to keep it) and work on it while waiting to see Dylan off to work. Somehow, I don't know how (it could have been that I was ogling Elvira Kurt) I missed a yarnover or something. But now the pretty mesh is a jumble of messed up stitches. It will probably be going to the frog pond.
I think the knitting gods have been angered by me starting a new novel. Can't knit if I'm writing. I think I need another pair of arms. lol
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Nah, don't blame writing. Lots of knitters write. I think it's the fact that you were soooooo sure you'd have enough yarn... you hate to be smited. Or Smiten. And the mystery thing? If you had TOLD people about it then it would've been fine. The knitting gods don't like secrets...
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