Not your average laundry on the line...

Once upon a time a certain young lady found some Brown Sheep cotton in a sweet little town, many miles away from her own. She loved the yarn so much that she knew she had to acquire it somehow. Being an underling, working long hours and stocking yarns in her local yarn store, while saving for a car, did not allow for such indulgences. Her mother was at hand, however, so she made the wish come true ......

The mother had forced the young lady to travel far away from her home and kitties to accompany her deep into the woods where big black flies would bite little chunks of her young white flesh everytime she left their cabin. The young ladies "ouch" would echo across Little Kitten lake throughout the day. She bore the burden with grace and was locked (well not really) in the cabin with the mother's darling dog who panted in close enough proximity to her, so that she would pat him on the head and say : "Huck , go away honey, your breath smells" every so often as she turned the pages of her beloved books to whilst away the long hours.

The mother and father and younger brother would leave her as they fished on Big Kitten lake and came home with stories of screaming beavers and fish that got away.

The mother wasn't mean, just a tad crazy, and she bought the yarn for the young girl without hesitation. But alas, the worried yarn shop lady who was a bit afraid of the tad crazy mother, had to order the yarn and the girl waited many weeks for her BROWN SHEEP COTTON to arrive.

When it finally arrived, the young lady, burdened with the task of scraping and painting the family garage, lept for joy as she left the rest of the task for her father to do.....his way. Then....she cast on.

Seven months later, the young lady had still not completed a fine knitted garment for herself with the lovely yarn. Until, one day in early April she came upon a fine knitting pattern by Ann E. Smith named: Lacy Cardigan. In no time she was knitting speedily while watching PRISON BREAK, and it seemed the yarn would finally become an adornment for her.

The kind of crazy mother hung it up on a clothesline at dusk on warm spring day and took a picture for her blog. The sunset cast a lovely light upon it and it seemed the cardigan would, indeed, be finished.

The kind of crazy mother would show the cyberworld the glorious creation for the first time that april night, and continued to hope her lovely daughter would indeed, someday, finish it, wear it and keep it for many years to come.

the end?


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