Bitches Get Stitches

in the back of mind, there is a voice.
it is the voice of the blog.
at any given moment,
it will speak up and say,
“maybe you should blog that.”
“have you written anything today?”
“that’s interesting, but is it blogworthy?”

today, while i was trying to block out the sound of the howler monkeys children “playing” next door, the voice in my head screamed,
“you have to tell them about the hole!”

i contemplated the irony that the voice in my head might have gone off the deep end when i figured out it was talking about yesterday’s incident with the stóra dímun.

as promised,
i wielded my tapestry needle like a pro,
and handed it to my friend yvonne to fix
while i went into the fetal position.

she unleashed her kung fu on its ass,
and it came out beautifully.

today,
the plan was to take an artistic bush photo.
by which i mean,
i would put the stóra dímun in the front hedge,
and take it’s picture, you know, to make it interesting.

the neighbor demons children made that idea impossible.

then i thought,
i’ll throw it on veronica!
that’ll make it interesting.
i tried to put it on her on her way out the door,
and she threw me the look.
the look that says,

“i tolerate this whole knitting obsession of yours because i love you, but if you put that shawl on me and take my picture, i’ll eviscerate you in your sleep.”

sometimes, it’s about not pushing the boundaries of friendship for the sake of the blog. (this lesson in cohabitation brought to you by bitches get stitches) so what does one do when one can’t use nature or feminine beauty to make your knitting look interesting?

shamelessly pimp out your dog, that’s what.