Occupational Hazards
So there I was, zapped out of commission for the day by a nasty chest cold:
Phillip said he just had to take this picture because it was obvious that Bailey was trying to figure out how to help me. Note the knitting clutched in my unconscious hands: Yes, of course I can take to my deathbed AND still get some knitting done...
Today I'm better. As soon as coffee had happened, I went straight for the handspun shawl project. Thank you, Gentle Readers, for your great suggestions! With your help, I landed on this beauty:
"Fragile Heart" Photo by Boo Knits
t's "Fragile Heart" by Boo Knits CLICK HERE to get yours. It's a gorgeous semi-circular bit of fluff, with a garter stitch or stockinette (knitter's choice) beginning, the number of lace repeats you feel like doing, and a deep, sexy border finished with (what else?) a picot bindoff. Oh, and did I mention beads? Done and Done.
I actually cast on for it at some point in my delirium yesterday, and I couldn't wait to see how I'd done, now that I'm cold-medicine free.
Apparently, things got a little wild in the living room while I was under the fog. My #6 is literally splintered to bits. Poor, helpless little #6! In my antihistamine stupor, I left you, unprotected, right there on the sofa cushion. And certainly, NOBODY in my house would know to check for knitting before taking a seat. Especially not Phillip, who has been married to a knitter, for like, a kabillion years. Get a load of the damage that guy's butt can do! Not just broken, my friends: Obliterated. Structural integrity completely compromised. There's actual sawdust. And splinters. As needle destruction goes, it's impressive. And he even had the good grace to shatter the needle that didn't have the knitting on it. That's right: No stitches were dropped during this dangerous stunt.
So while it looks like I did okay with the cast on, despite my Comtrex Coma, I won't be working on it again until a certain needle tip can be replaced. Unless, of course, this has happened before, with another hapless #6, leaving its mate all alone and waiting to be pressed into service...
Oh wishful thinking, you never cease to amaze! If anybody needs me, I'll be checking every single needle tip in my collection to see if it's a #6.