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