|Legacy of the Divine Tarot|
So there I was, mojo-lessly and therefore aimlessly mooching around Ravelry, when - Lo ! I saw a reference to a shawl; clicking on the link reminded me that I had seen it before and liked it - so why it wasn't in my queue I don't know: 'Summer Flies Shawl'. That is flies as in 'time flies' not 'buzzbuzz flies', obviously. And - bonus ! - I have two, that is at least two, yarns that are just right for it in color, and I think in yardage.
Yes, Dear Reader, you may rejoice, as I did, that the mojo had come home to Mama after a mere week or so; clapping my hands and skipping in glee, I tra-la-la-ed as I set up my ballwinder.
Light of heart and mind, and warbling tunelessly, I selected the yarn, the lovely turquoise sock-yarn given to me by the even lovelier stephcuddles on her recent visit. Mini Diva inveigled me into letting her help (it was almost her bedtime) by winding the winder. So far, so good, right ?
I didn't swear. I didn't scream. I didn't shout. I didn't fulminate. I didn't gnash my teeth or wail at the shock of Mini Diva suddenly exhibiting signs of being related to Destructo Boy. I sent her to bed in a far more terrifying silence.
Four and three quarter hours later, I had this:
Actually, since it was after 1am by that time, it looked more like this:
So, learn from my fail: do not allow a 9 year old to cozen you into helping wind yarn when the TV is on, she is watching it as well as winding, she should be in bed, and you are not paying 100% attention to what she is doing.