And then he munched my wooden needle.
There’s been a rash of feline destruction Chez Blue Garter of late. My camera lacks the ability to really zoom in on the wanton damage here, but you can observe that the right tip of the needle that’s horizontal is, well, completely gone. I left the furry little hoodlum apparently snoozing beside my booties for exactly the amount of time it took me to walk to the kitchen and rinse a peach. Fifteen seconds, perhaps? Since I already lost the fifth needle of this set, that’s effectively the end of their useful lives. I was able to limp through the remaining rounds of booty cuff by slipping the stitches off the back of the wounded needle to the free one each time, but I’m not likely to cast on for a new project knowing I’ll have to do this every round. Darn it, Mingus, I really liked these Brittany Birches, and they were my only set of #2s. Send a cat muzzle…or metal needles.