You know that horrible, awful, God-forsaken, straight-from-the-fires-of-Hell itself shawl I've been working on for five long, interminable years? I was working on it yesterday, when I found this.
I could just cry. And I'm not ashamed to admit that I did. A bit.
I don't know how it got there. My guess is cat claw. But as you can see, it's several inches back and below the lowest lifeline.
At this point, I can't even deal. I stuffed the shawl on the back of the shelf and will decide what to do with it later. Be warned, though, at this point, I have developed a deep and burning, loathing hatred for this shawl. More than likely, the entire thing will be ripped out and the yarn re-purposed.
Right now, I don't care if I never see the blasted thing ever again.
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