There is no doubt December has been a tough month to live through. Not withstanding the challenges of living with two teenage girls, it seemed for a while that the sweater curse was going to land on my head with a resounding "Take That" and how dare you be so smug as to think you could avoid me. Needles lay neglected mid row, I add in deep shame. Yarn held no attraction despite its siren call and the lure of wondrous things to make. The duvet looked warm and snuggly and more inviting that getting up and pasting a smile on my face.
But I am a big girl and there are only so many tears you can cry before you start to feel distinctly soggy and in need of wringing out. Plus puffy eyes and a red nose only works on those blessed with supernatural beauty. I just look plain ugly when I cry. Having run out of brown bags to wear over my head and thus unable to avoid scaring the neighbourhood kids, (Halloween being long gone,) it was time to shake off the dust and step out bravely.
Cute neighbour guy realised after my short hibernation period that I was more important to him than he had realised and the curse has been beaten back to a respectable distance. I fear it may still be hovering somewhere in the vicinity and I am not yet ready to continue with the sweater requested and started. Perhaps a safe pair of socks instead!
Happy Christmas to you all and roll on 2010.
