Holy.

Fucking.

Cats.

I knit a bowl for a Christmas project.

A white bowl.

A white bowl to which I was going to apply a lovely needle-felted pointsettia.

For a Christmas project.

For the family Christmas party.

This Saturday.

I put it in my special zippered pillow case, purchased special for the felting thing.

I tossed in a couple of pairs of jeans and, oh, what the hell... how 'bout this beach towel that's sitting down here?

And realised I never took a before picture.

And decided I had a good opportunity to take a during picture.

And found I had missed the zippering part of the zippered pillow case and my white bowl escaped its earthly (pillow-casely?) bond and is covered in navy blue towel schrapnel and the towel schrapnel is pretty well felted in and I tried but its apparent that even if I could get the little navy blue towel schrapnel lint balls off the white bowl it still has this blue... *sheen* it has a fine layer of blue towel schrapnel fuzzing the whole piece and after much fussing and panicked deals with God, I have now completed anger and denial and am now firmly planted in acceptance... the acceptance that I'm going to have to knit the fucking thing all over again.

Shit.

Fuck.

Shitfuck.*


*FOOTNOTE (asterisked, because I'm too demoralised to get the cool footnote marks): Name that movie.