Indeed. I guess what blows me away the most is just the attitude of the knitter who is the focus of this shitstorm. Who seems to think that she and her offspring got one over on “the Man” by cheating a LYS owner out of $30. Baffling.
After being smart and listening to my own Litany of Lame, I took a few moments to check gauge on my cardi back last night. I was .5 spi off. Which seemed to be making quite a difference in the overall size of the garment, actually, those .5’s add up. I ripped it out, recast on (this involved hilarity when I could not get my count right and had to hand the needle to husband and ask HIM to please count loops as I was obviously on crack) and the result is better. I’m thinking I might gank the charted skull from Skully and stick that center bottom of the right front cardi panel. I’m also lukewarm about the furry trim because no pirate in her right mind would be caught dead in fun fur. We’ve already established that, no matter what the folks at KnitOne might think. I may just do button band and skip the fur bits.
I am an avid reader. I read all manner of books from nonfiction and history to fantasy, sci fi and yes, even the romantical. I have no shame, I’ll read anything. Toothpaste containers. Just put words in my hand. So I was at the library with the pooglin yesterday and found some
Taco Bell light, fluffy reading material by Debbie Macomber, called The Shop On Blossom Street. Not having read any Debbie Macomber, but seeing balls of yarn on the cover, naturally I ponied up to the counter and took the book home. I devoured in about two hours while knitting on the aforementioned cardi (because I am all about multitasking) and JUST like when one eats Taco Bell, I was left vaguely dissatisfied and feeling as if I’d wasted an opportunity (to eat a good meal or read a good book). I mean, okay. Yarn store, good. Premise, could be interesting. Execution? Not so much with that, thanks. Moralistic, badly written, preachy craaaaaap with 2 dimensional stock characters, NO plot and a predictable ending that I, er, predicted, about 1/3 of the way through the book. Gentle readers, before you get your romance reading knickers in a wad, please do not to be getting me wrong, I am the huge fan of Brain Taco Bell, I have almost every Nora Roberts paperback ever released. My shelves abound with the not so serious. I appreciate the value of a light, fluffy whipped confection because one cannot always be reading Suetonius and his ilk. Tacitus wears, after a while. You want to bitchslap Jane Eyre and tell her to get a life. I know. My point is that this wasn’t even Taco Bell. This was like, a twinkie. This was the Hostess Snack Cake of light fluffy reading and a total waste of time and like a Twinkie will probably hang about in my brain and pollute me for the next five hundred years. So save your money. If you must read it, try your local library. You’ll thank me later, I swear.