Casualties of mitten knitting
A dog ate my knitting needles. Well, 2.5 3.0mm dpns. Seriously.
No, it wasn’t Janie Sparkles. It was Dudley, the border collie mix that brings to my mother-in-law. I forget what an amazing girl we have, with no nervous chewing, no accidents, no major issues. Just occasionally barfy when she drinks too much, too fast. But couldn’t that describe many humans?
Not to worry, one of the consumed needles was already broken. All that remains are two whole ones and a stub of one. They were vintage (read: brittle) white plastic Susan Bates given to me from a friend’s mother-in-law’s stash (I’m seeing connections here.) So much for attaching the mitten caps onto the fingerless gloves I completed.
Alas, it was just the excuse I needed to indulge in an unbreakable replacement set from Signature. Besides, I like blue better.
(pictured is the pre-consumption breakage that occurred during the 9+ hour drive to Eugene on Wednesday – all my fault, not the dog’s)