|The divine duo are duly impressed|
Now my fingers are itching and my knitting needles are prodding me in the soft, fleshy parts where envy lurks.
'What about us?' they are shouting resentfully. 'Why don't we get to do things like that?'
'Because you aren't crochet hooks,' I spit at them.
'Go and learn how to loop and twist.'
But they aren't mollified.
Apparently it is I who needs to learn...
This all began, as you may well recall dear Reader, way back when I started knitting the pole warmer!
And beware, it's spreading! If it hasn't already, soon it will appear in a place near you...
|Wouldn't you die for a pair of trousers like that?|
All I can do is applaud!
Hooray for the guerrillas!
Long live the knitters of the night, those who crochet in the dark hour before dawn, the intrepid souls who creep out under cover of dusk and bedeck our streets.
There should be awards!