Everything Wants Its Day in the Sun

Look what I found when I came down this morning:

My half-finished Painted Desert Shawl, basking in the sun.






Here's a closer look. (Yes, that's my toe. No, it's not there for scale.)

I guess this was her way of telling me, "I know your head is full of erotic fantasies about all the great times you're going to have with your new love, the Cherry Country Shawl (that hussy - a scarlet woman shawl if I ever saw one!) But remember me? Last summer you swore you would love me forever!"

"I know, but that was last summer. The thrill is gone. I just don't feel that same passion I once had for you."

"But, but - you complete me!(apologies to the producers of Jerry McGuire)"

Fickleness: thy name is knitter.

OK, so where was my current relationship project? Not in my chair, where I left it. Not in the knitting basket, where it lives. Not in the house anywhere. Was she pouting? Had the Desert shawl been trash talking her and scared her off? The Desert shawl feigned innocence.

Clearly I needed to look further afield.
Yes, that's right folks, this is the proverbial garden path, and ol' Moth Wing was leading me right down it

And then I saw her She had reverted to her native habitat - the woodlands behind our house Being of the race of woodlands colored stoles, she had sought comfort with her own kind.






See how she is embracing the butterfly bush? Rebound.

I tried to talk her around. I begged her, "Please come back Mothy! I'm not ready to give you up yet. We still have a beautiful future. I promise to take care of you!"

She sighed (OK maybe it was the breeze) and shook her double fern border from side to side.

(You'll have to take my word for it, since I haven't figured out UTube yet. Sounds way too technical for a thermostatically challenged muggle like me.)


Finally I sweet talked her inside, where I apologized profusely to both shawls, and reassured them they would always have a place in my heart (and my knitting basket/closet.)

I'm not sure they believe me.

What's that lurking on the top of the work lamp?













I think they hired the monkey sock to investigate me for signs of infidelity.


Jeesh! Knitting can be so temperamental sometimes!