So, I found a simple shawl pattern, a really simple shawl pattern; so simple in fact that in any other yarn I would have found it unsatisfying to knit. This wasn't any other yarn though, this was my old friend Gypsy. We started well, Gypsy and I were getting on just fine, I had visions of us dancing to the tambourine, wildly whirling round a bonfire but those visions are currently lying in dust.
Never count your chickens before they're hatched and never plan where you're going to wear a garment until it's completed. About a third of the way into the shawl disaster struck. Disaster in the shape of a sleek red tabby cat who torpedoed onto my lap like a bat out of hell, pulling several stitches from my needles in the process. The cat promptly made himself comfortable and started to wash while I looked in dismay at the wreckage of my shawl. I tried hard to work out how many stitches I'd dropped and to pick them back up but, well, fluff, lots of fluff, and I was tired. In another yarn pehaps recovery might have been achieved but in Gypsy, the wrong side of midnight, I just couldn't do it. Sadly I unravelled the remains of my shawl and wound Gypsy back into a ball, putting her back to bed in the safety of a paper bag.
What can I say? The cat is forgiven, it would be impossible for the cat not to be forgiven, and I can start again with my shawl. I'm trying not to view it as a knitting disaster. Rather, it's a serenity success; I admit I did swear once as it all went wrong but after that I calmly and quietly ravelled back and rewound my yarn without losing patience or getting upset... that counts as a success doesn't it?
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