That's Beru, Daisy and Falstaff's cat. She loves to climb into my lap, stretch out along my thigh and attack my knees through my jeans. She only does it to me, and she only does it when I'm wearing jeans. I bottle fed her when she was a tiny kitten, and I used to let her curl up and sleep in the hollow of my collar bone while I watched television. I think maybe she formed some strange bond with me as a result. Content yourselves with looking at her, because you're not going to see any finished knitting or crochet today.
The Tagliatelle sleeveless whatever? I hate it. I hate it so much that I've contemplated taking it outside and putting it on the barbecue to burn. The only thing preventing me from doing this is that it's acrylic, and I fear it would ruin my barbecue by melting all over it. Looking back to the post where I talked about buying it, I see that I paid $28 for eight skeins, so if I decided to throw it out, I'd only be throwing away $17.50, because I still have almost three unused skeins.
What went wrong, you ask? Somehow, although I measured carefully, even taking it off the needles onto waste yarn at one point, it ended up several inches too short and too wide. It makes me look shorter and wider than I am as a result and, after almost a month of not going to the gym and drinking white mochas to get me through the workday, I don't need any help there. No, it won't block out to the right length again. That's a fool's errand, trying to make that work.
And no, I can't take it apart and reuse the yarn, because the act of seaming it together was such an exercise in splitting and clinging that there are knots in the seams that cannot be undone. I'm not even sure how some of them ended up there. The seams look like total crap, so there's not going to be any forging ahead with them as they are. It's not like this is my first seaming job, but it sure as Hell looks like it.
I'm sure that at some point this week I'll be able to pick it back up and get most of it apart again, a few knotted sections not withstanding, and maybe I'll make a lovely shawl or something out of it. Yeah, it's a small sum of money tied up in it, but it's a stash project, and it feels wrong somehow to reduce my yarn hoard by throwing it in the trash. For now, let us not speak of it again.