••• Monday, July 12, 2004
A Story Older than Dirt...
... Thou return unto the storage bin, for out of it wast thou taken: for balls of yarn thou art, and into balls of yarn shalt thou return.
Yup. The Rebecca Crossways Rib done crosswayed me crosseyed. (I know why that girl is running now. She's warning the villagers: Marcy's carrying needles! And they're loaded!)
Some of you might have seen this coming. But evidently I refused. So after wasting half my summer frettin' and sweatin' and hatin' over this ribbed displeasure, a froggin' I did go.
But not without a fight from this most worthy opponent.
First it tried cute. (Hey, Kitty. Nice try.)
Then it tried menacing. (Brak?)
But amidts their cries for mercy, swift justice prevailed.
For as we all know, The Good Knitter knitteth, and the Good Knitter ribbith away.
... Thou return unto the storage bin, for out of it wast thou taken: for balls of yarn thou art, and into balls of yarn shalt thou return.
Yup. The Rebecca Crossways Rib done crosswayed me crosseyed. (I know why that girl is running now. She's warning the villagers: Marcy's carrying needles! And they're loaded!)
Some of you might have seen this coming. But evidently I refused. So after wasting half my summer frettin' and sweatin' and hatin' over this ribbed displeasure, a froggin' I did go.
But not without a fight from this most worthy opponent.
First it tried cute. (Hey, Kitty. Nice try.)
Then it tried menacing. (Brak?)
But amidts their cries for mercy, swift justice prevailed.
For as we all know, The Good Knitter knitteth, and the Good Knitter ribbith away.
Labels: When Knitting You is Hurting Me
Comments:
Post a Comment