So…I had an ‘incident’ last night. An upsetting one that I know my crochet pals will understand. The more dramatic the situation become, though, the less angry I was able to remain.
You see, I had found a cute pattern. You know the kind. It is just difficult enough to stimulate your mind with new shapes and colors, yet just fast enough to make a handful of projects to give to a few of your loved ones? Oh….but the colors….it is this innocent looking project, (you can click on the picture to take you to the blog that explains how to make them. It’s a really awesome pattern and sooo worth it!!! LUVZ!!):
So I decide to make three different bunnies and I drag out ALL these colors. Well, my yarn skeins are all at the same, critical point. The point where I haven’t used enough to wrap the rest around toilet paper rolls, but low enough to where at any moment they’ll hit that ‘fall apart’ stage where they’re more likely to snag and suddenly become a tangled chaotic mess, especially if you put them next to another skein of yarn in the same condition. And especially if you put them next to nine different skeins in the same condition.
So I pile them next to me on each side on the couch under my elbows, in my lap, right in front of the lap top, and I’m sure to shew Mizzy the Kitty away (for she loves to dig at them and pull them off the couch to make room for herself.) My husband is even kind enough not to complain when the yarn pile starts overflowing to his side of the couch. (Of course, he was brain-mush-deep in the middle of his Spec Ops: The Line video game.) Then I realize it: I forgot a color. But oh, I need that color.
I try to move. It’s not a good idea. I’m determined. So are the mischievous fairy yarn people who weave anarchy into the lives of crafters everywhere. I decide I’ll stretch out toward my craft bin. It’s too far. I don’t realize this motion has started the martial law of the invisible yarn folk. So then I do it. I push the yarn to the sides, or so I think, and I stand up. But the yarn has other plans with my leg, and then my other leg, and I notice and try to untangle it only to make it worse. The cursing commences. My husband leaning as far to the side to see his game around my hopping, crouching form begins. The bullets are flying in the game; the soldiers are screaming that the game player needs to pay more attention. It’s like a soundtrack to my misery. Then I’m hit! Just like the soldier in his game. “I need backup! I’m down!” “One enemy down!” “Where are you?! I need help over here! Watch my back! AGHH! I’m hit again!” The soldier curses, I take a few steps back to better see the chaos. I curse with the soldier.
It isn’t long before my arms are tangled as well and I’m on the floor half sobbing/half laughing, and I only realize my husband has decided to pause the game when he peers over the edge of the couch down at me. I ask for his help. He pales and shakes his head as if the war on the screen is child’s play compared to the violence he’d be exposed to if he agreed to the request I just made. He can tell by my detached, maniac laughter that the battle has deteriorated my mind.
I had to surrender to sitting there and sorting and wrapping each skein. *sigh* But it’s all better, crafter friends. I’m okay now. It’s just…there’s a point where the cursing and tangling finally turns into a forced, humbling, appreciation for your own situation, ya know? One minute you’re hopping and tugging and scowling, and then next the hopelessness of it all has you giggling uncontrollably! Oh, well. Guess I never should have tempted the fates to begin with. lolz!
Good luck out there, crochet pals, and stay on your toes! Ours is a gleeful, fulfilling battle of wit and endurance, haha! It’s okay to take a time out when the yarn is winning and you’re suddenly a ‘man down.’ Just pause, take a breather, and laugh it off! Feel the patience grow within you, crochet-son. <—- (Sensai voice.)