The day after I posted the Olympic shawl, a fortune cookie told me “Keep your feet on the ground even though your friends flatter you”. What timing. But how do I keep my feet on the ground? Near as I can tell, I should post something about which nobody will flatter me. This should do just fine.
Ages ago, before I had discovered the yarnover, I amassed a frightening collection of pattern leaflets and such. Most of them have since found new homes, but a select few have waited patiently on my shelves until I picked them up again. One such….
I don’t have any clue from where it came. Looking at that, I suspect its origins are in The Pit Of Hell. Just look at that – knitted teddy bears on a picnic with knitted hamburgers and sandwiches and drinks – we should all be backing away slowly.
But no. I picked it up again today… and I brought it with me to the SnB… and I showed it to Laura. (Admittedly, it was more shoving it in her face and announcing the horror of it than simply showing it to her.)
Now I’m not going to show y’all the “sweet little snowballs” (white blobs with limbs and hats), or the bunny family, or any of the Christmas tree trims (snowball faces , Mr. and Mrs. Snow , Christmas pudding, mistletoe heart), or the soccer-playing octopus. None of those. Just… this.
WHO IN TARNATION POSED ALL THOSE CRITTERS??? Having knit that many or even found enough unsuspecting test knitters was a feat in itself, but the decoration! Gourd! The fire and the nests and that little band with the dancers – oh merciful Cthulhu – and all those cavepeople! I count fourty-seven cavepersons in the full picture – a couple were cut out in the picture above – fourty-seven! I don’t know which one disturbs me more, the caveperson about to toss the boulder or the one tugging on the tail of the orange dinosaur. Why the Flying Burrito Brother would you tug the tail of an orange dinosaur? And those three riding the hot pink pterodactyl – oh, I give up. Just look at the picture.
Sigh. I am not quite sure how it happened, but I’m putting it entirely on Laura. Somehow I cast on for a cavecritter – Mom had an array of different colours of petroyarn with her for her catnip corn, Laura kept taunting me and said that Scout is prettier than Fritty… I told you, it’s all her fault. My yarn choices were a bit iffy and using Fun Fur for hair was not a good idea. Well, just look.
Crazy hair, different weights of yarn, and what on earth is that expression on his face? What to do but drag him elsewhere in the kitchen and see what happens.
His lower half blended into the eggs quite well, but look at him screaming for help!
I don’t think he cared much for bananas either.
Finally he jumped onto a pineapple.
A victory dance!
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