A good yarn . . .

 

 

One must discover the yarn amidst the thorns.

Fighting Argyles

     The argyles are on their way.  They are a mess to knit - thirty hanging bobbins of yarn. These are not well mannered, peace loving bobbins. They start out quiet enough.  But it only takes a couple of rows before they start to show their true colors.  First, come the sidelong glances; then they give each other dirty looks.  Before you know it they are muttering harsh words.  The first under-their-breath-words are hard to distinguish.  By the time they begin shouting I can understand every word. Grey calls Maroon "Whore Red". Maroon insinuates Gold is the "color of baby poo-poo".  Gold refers to Grey as "The Old Grey Night-Mare".  You get the idea.  That's when things really begin to escalate. First, they merely brush up against each other.  Pushing and shoving soon gives way to out and out wrestling.  They end up being hopelessly entwined.  The whole lot of them.  Bailing wire is easier to untangle. 

 But I'm no wimp.  I'm going in among them.  I'm going to tame me a bunch of Argyles.

10-23-13: 64 hats 

    

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