Once you are a knitter, no one ever wants a book for their birthday. My sister-in-law Kelly is in town with the lovely nieces Savannah and Kamilah, both of whom are celebrating birthdays. I asked Kelly what the lovely girlies would want for their birthdays, and it's not a book.
Go ahead. You know you want to. I know. It's no Starmore, it's not complex lace, it isn't going to be fibres to die for. As a matter of fact I accept that you all are going to spend the next few days belittling me deeply. I can take it. I'm doing it for love.
My name is Stephanie and I'm going to knit doll clothes. To quote the ever eloquent Curmudgeon, "Bite me". They are my lovely little nieces and I'm going to knit the stinkin' doll clothes and I'm going to blog about it. The party is Saturday so it's going to be a dollie binge, then it's over. Should you contemplate having a go at me for knitting the stupid little doll clothes please make an attempt to make it witty and entertaining. If you think that this is the worst thing that could happen to a knitter, contemplate this.
Not enough love in the world to get me to knit that one. Damn. Boggles the mind. When Kelly showed me that over coffee this morning, I was so stunned that she had to turn the page to break the spell. There's something about it. Is it the colour? The gauge? The fact that someone spent hours setting up the shot? Somewhere in the world there is a person who's job it was to sprinkle the fake snow (which Kelly believes to be sugar) around the Ken-doll, put the little poles in his hands....get the hat just right. Staggering. Whatever the flack is that I'm going to take over the dollie clothes, it could be worse. That could be my job.Posted by Stephanie at April 1, 2004 11:41 AM