As those of you who know me know, I have recently decided that knitting is where it's at, and that all should tremble before the power of my needles. TREMBLE!!
I learned how to knit a few months ago, and proceeded to dump more money into this damn hobby than any hobby before. More than pastels, more than fancy-pillow-making, even more than bronze. I rationalize my spending with the fact that the fruits of my labor are getting wrapped up in nice, pretty Christmas paper and given away. I don't see it as too many dollars spent on wads of Baby Alpaca fuzz and aluminum chopsticks. No. I see it as significant credit card debt in the name of BABY JESUS. Baby Jesus supports my art. Baby Jesus thinks knitting is the bomb.
Baby Jesus knows that...
...only the coolest kids wear fuzzy hats with earflaps.
And if Baby Jesus doesn't know it, my sister will. Or, she will at least act appropriately impressed with this freakish set of fuzzy white accessoria.