Friday, December 17, 2004

I really should have known...
Part 1: Striking gold!

The gold wool arrived yesterday, shortly after I'd posted about it. And the colour was perfectly Billy-approved gold! Nicely wound on a cone, and nearly the same colour as my snowglobe cat:

wool destined for a Billy scarf

Excellent! Anyway, off we went to a hotel, and since Bill hasn't yet chosen a pattern for his gold scarf, I took a sock to knit. It was a lovely evening that went too fast; we went out for dinner and stuffed ourselves so full of Indian food that I didn't even have a gulab jamun for dessert! We watched TV in the hotel room until the wee hours of the morning. I knitted -- I'm just past the short-row heel on my first Opal sock, and heading for the toe. Of course we slept too late this morning to claim our free breakfast, but I did bring the free newspaper home, because I do try to snag all the free swag I can get at any given time. Then we headed back home.

Part 2: The cat strikes!

Bea was waiting for us at the door, of course, having been left alone all night with just a big bowl of food and an open toilet for comfort. The first thing I saw was a pile of shredded pink tissue paper on the floor. Oh, how cute: Bea must have had a fun night. Dum de dum... uh, dear? Didn't I leave the new cone of gold yarn on the shelf by the window? 'Cause it's not there now.

In fact, the cone of gold yarn was no longer even on the main floor of the apartment. As I went down the stairs, with a sinking feeling in my stomach, I saw it. Well, part of it. That's when I knew this was a case for CCSI: Craft-Crime Scene Investigation. The trail of evidence began in the living room. I followed the single strand of wool across the room, through the door, down the hall, and into the bedroom; the victim lay motionless behind the bed, and people, it was not a pretty sight. It was obvious that a major trauma had taken place on the scene. Shall we revisit the original photo, then, which shall now be known simply as "Before"?

Can it be saved?

I know, it's shocking. But we can't just pretend that this kind of violence isn't happening! We have to face the truth, the awful truth. There was insult as well as injury, too; take a closer look at the cat in the snowglobe. That's right: the snowglobe was found on the floor, snow-cat dislodged from its position. Did the whole destructive assault begin as an attempt to free the snow-cat before spiralling out of control and involving the cone of wool? We'll never know for sure. The perpetrator isn't talking.

Anyway, the good news is that the wool didn't break. This wool will be untangled and knit into the sturdiest scarf this side of Sturdyville. It survived this attack; it will laugh in the face of snow and cold weather. Ha! The gold wool will not be defeated!

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