Today I lost my shit. For real. Or, more accurately, I misplaced my shit. I feel like I spent the whole day rooting around my purse and office for various items, including my wallet (twice, both times found in coat pocket, duh), my office ID card (somehow lodged in sock-in-progress in purse), and my digital camera (yikes! still missing, hence the lack of photos).
Rather than yammer on about the annoyance that was the fifteenth of November, I’ll give a little knitting update. Inspired by the clever haiku over at Mason-Dixon Knitting, I’ll be presenting my update in the form of a really really bad sonnet.
The Rogue she is done
Time for rub-a-dub
But soaking? there’s none
Till I scrub the tub
The alpaca beast
With maths oh so hard
Knit the sleeves at least?
Or bury it in the yard
Xmas hat calls me
The lure of the bling
Need some green Lorna’s
And some sparkly thing(s)
Those are the knits that
are giving me fits.
Oooh - this is motivating me to dig out the melodramatic poems I wrote in college. Hooray for philosophical angst! But they are likely too embarassing to post.
2 comments:
Love the Xmas tree hat! My sister would love that for Christmas--hmmm.
I also (as who did not?) wrote melodramatic poems in college, but I don't have to go looking for them, because my parents sent my aunt a copy of my campus literary magazine, and she had one of them CALLIGRAPHED and FRAMED and it is HANGING ON MY PARENTS' WALL.
Sorry to yell but it is traumatizing to be reminded forcibly of the melodrama whenever I go home.
PS Scrub that tub! I wanna see the racing stripes.
Great poem there, Beth! I'm starting to think the sleeves on my USMP are pretty much endless--though I could have sworn that my arms weren't THAT long. At least the hat is a faster knit, I promise!
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