It was awesome.
I spent a lot of time in sweatpants, didn't do very much by way of household chores and futzed around with fabric and yarn and movies on DVD from the library.
Totally awesome. I haven't done that since before Jamie was born.
Anyway, I did reknit the neck on the Fool's sweater and blocked it and wove in the ends just in time for him to wear it on his trip. He complained a little bit, though.
FOOL: This sweater is still damp. I can't wear it.
ME: Yes, you can. It will dry from your body heat.
ME: Yes, you can. It will dry from your body heat.
FOOL: It is making my shirt wet.
ME: It's not that bad. It's more Irish that way. You can pretend you were out walking around in the misty Galway night on the way home from a session.
FOOL: Mrrf.
To my relief, Blackwater Abbey still stretches vertically quite a bit, and the sleeves were much looser once we got the thing wet. The color is supposed to be a wine red, but I plead dark hallway at night.
Now I'm on to a vest I put in time out for no good reason at all.
