While it is a creepy 1971 Clint Eastwood movie, it’s also the tune than ran through my head on my way to work this morning. Since I actually left almost on time, the morning fog hadn’t yet burned off and this semi-gloomy sight greeted me as I headed to the Metro. Fortunately the sun burned off most of the gloom by lunchtime, but now it’s nearly quitting time and the sun has already dipped below the horizon. Thanks, winter! Love ya! Kisses!
Technically it IS WIP Wednesday, but as usual I’m creeping through with barely a knit. I’m going to late night tonight and brought along Pie so I can begin picking up the endless number of stitches around the border. I also
have Scar2 in case my brain starts to dribble out of my ears. I still can’t get a straight answer from my mum on whether or not I should cast on Oblique from my grandmother, but one thing is for certain: Hourglass is off to the frog pond. After the unfortunately sleeve incident of last night, I tugged the body on again this morning, only this time I looked in the mirror.
No, nuh-uh, not gonna happen. I’m not sure if I’m going to frog it and cast it back on in a larger size or fish around for a different pattern to use, but as of this weekend, it will be no more. Maybe that’ll be a good task to undertake while race watching. I’m going to be far too nervous to do any actual knitting; perhaps destruction will be a better option.