Back on the day the Yarn Harlot came to Nana's Knitting Shop in Oak Lawn, some sort of knitting epidemic spread through the store. I'm not sure how it got started, but it hit me hard. Before it passed, I'd purchased a skein of Noro Silk Garden and a skein of Cascade 220 to knit the "Windmill Beret." Not that I had any idea of what it was. But you know how it is. Sometimes the yarn fumes can cause a disease.
In the following weeks I sat here and cast it on. And ripped it out. And cast it back on. And frogged it. And. Cast. It. On. And. Frogged. That. MF.
ad nauseam
Until I came to Chicago and got some help. Some of the ladies who had caught the disease that day had found ways to deal with it, assuring all of us in the throws of the illness that it's not so bad. And that it gets easier to deal with once you're used to it.
Taking their advice, I cast the hat back on to my needles. Four days later I had this:It's lovely with the shades of green and blue. And all my hair fits inside. I feel a knitting jag coming on.
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