I’m on the last sleeve of my portable tribute to Bob Marley, aka the Dreadigan, aka St. John Knits On Ganja.
There’s nothing like eleven hours in the car, Hubbo driving, with the DVDs and french fries flowing in the back seat, to give a woman the rare feeling that she has actually knitted enough. I felt like Mike Mulligan and Mary Anne, digging that foundation in just one day.
P.S. Kay, if you don’t start posting fotos, I’m going to start posting a cat picture every day. Or the shoe-by-shoe tour of my favorite footwear.