My angels I’ve been clacking those needles so much since Wednesday that I’ve strained the muscle that runs along my collar bone. Seriously, I started with a sweater and as the news rolled in I was on track to complete a three piece suit.
Apologies for not posting today’s chapter.
Tomorrow the second to last episode of Hollywood & Mine will be up on the Beguiling Hollywood podcast..
I’ve knitted only two things in my life: (1) a red, blue and white scarf that was far too long and wide enough to be a bedspread; and (2) a purple sweater that I accidentally threw in the washing machine, and when I pulled it out, the body had shrunk but the sleeves were still long, and it looked like it was made for a chimpanzee.
The last thing I made before this was a baby sweater, 28 years ago. A friend of mine lives in New York City and her birthday is coming up — plus the yarn arrived in the mail from a glorious shop in Cambridge, Massachusetts, called Gather Here. I had a conversation with the proprietor about colors, in which, to my embarrassment, I channeled Myrna Loy as Mrs. Blandings in Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House. Yet when the parcel arrived on my doorstep wrapped in paper, tied with twine, inside were woolly treasures of the perfect hue.
Haha! I know what you mean re: channeling Myrna Loy (we re-watched that film a couple of weeks ago), but how wonderful that the wool arrived in the perfect colour.
Also: It’s made my evening to know that packages with twine still exist.
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