You may not realize it, but at the moment I am Bess Truman. The Killer bought a $3.99 book of the presidents at Borders tonight and so now we are the Trumans. And please don't ask me why I'm not Harry Truman. She just told me that she was Margaret Truman and I am Bess Truman. Lord help me. Please don't let me become Betty Ford.
I had a vision while laying in bed yesterday morning and staring at the ceiling fan spinning and it enabled me to see a way to bypass the crap directions in the creel pattern and find a better path to stitched enlightenment. So I stayed up til 2:00 am and finished the SOB. Here 'tis:
For the curious, here is the silky wool tank deal I just finished:
2 comments:
Dear Bess--Wasn't it your predecessor, Eleanor, who was the knitter? Oh, well, who knows what goes through the mind of the "director." (aka SGK) I'm impressed with both your projects, but especially that you conquered the creel--it looks wonderful. I can hardly wait to see it up close and personal.
7 years already? I can't believe the time has passed so quickly. Hope you avoid the 7 year itch. Just make sure you don't scratch and the feeling will pass.
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