Susan's Chamber of Horrors!

Welcome to my house of horrors knitting studio. Pay no attention to the cobwebs hanging in the corners. Pretend they are laceweight. Then they are not so spooky, No?


Come closer so I can see your neck knitting fingers










Closer...










Closer...

I am your host, Count Alpac-ula. Do not be concerned about my fangs. They are there only to serve in aiding yarn detanglement. I would never bite a knitter. I leave that to poorly written pattern instructions and mistakenly figured gauge swatches.


Won't you join me in a glass of blood cherry goodness?

No? Well, perhaps we should start our tour. BWAA-HAA-HAAAAH!





This is my cousin Igor, distantly related on my ewe's side. He is an alpac-o-lantern.






And this innocent looking item appears on first sight to be a lovely bag of gray wool from Sirdar.

But little do you know! On nights of the full moon it is transformed into...

(lightning flash)


WERE-WOOL (You know, that horrible nasty stuff known as:

Acrylic (GASP!) "With wool" is not the same thing as real wool, people.


Hank-en-stein is around here somewhere...

What's that, Igor? You know I can't understand you with fuzz in your mouth.

Oh yes, the master mistress has already packed up or given away all skeins that qualify as such (the were-wool being a recently discovered beast.) Let's move along.

Do you kind people remember that wonderful B-grade horror classic, "The Blob?" You know, the one where the lob keeps growing and growing, swallowing up everything in its path?










I think it speaks for itself, don't you?

Do you miss your mummy?
We aim to please here at Susan's Chamber of Horrors. No, no. Don't feed the mummy. And, whatever you do, for God's sake, DON'T try to unwrap him. He ties himself up in knots once he's disturbed...


And we're walking...walking...


Watch your needles ladies and gentlemen. We will be passing close by the Frog Pond on our way to the next horror. I wouldn't want any of you to get lost. Not yet anyway...


Oh! A rare sighting. Please remain calm. Be quiet so as not to scare him off.

This boo-tiful ball is Dr. Jekyll. Kindly, good-natured, well, behaved...

But try to knit it into a scarf and it turns ugly on you. Every pattern disappears into the color and texture of the yarn itself, rendering it unrecognizable as the mild mannered Jekyll. No, this yarn becomes...

(scary music)

Mr. Hide Hyde in plain sight. This yarn has been resurrected over ten times (so far) Each time, he dies a timely death and heads for the frog pond, only to be rescued and recycled by Master Mistress. You'd think she would have learned by now, wouldn't you?

And now we come to the darkest place in our tour: the dungeon. Master Mistress calls it the WIP pile, but we have never seen a sweater come back alive. We call it...

(scary music)




THE SHELF OF THE LIVING DEAD!!!































This concludes our tour. I hope you have enjoyed your visit. Don't forget to tip the sock-check girl on your way out.



She is supporting an embarrassing number of several orphans at the moment.



Thank you for coming. Have a horror-ible Halloween.

Next time, I think I'll have you for dinner...