Because in the past few weeks I was too doped up to follow a lace pattern for the Meem’s Shawl and my fingers were too crippled to hold onto teeny tiny sock needles, I was forced to come up with a short, sweet, and simple project to keep what little sanity I have intact. After all, if I don’t knit, I have no excuse to buy more yarn and that, my friends, would be a tragedy. Some women lust after fine jewelry, expensive handbags, and/or designer clothing; I just want pretty string to loop together to form clothing and household items. And books about pretty string looping together to form clothing and household items.
To the rescue came the Mason-Dixon Knitting girls and their by now ubiquitous ball-band dishcloth. I had to go to Jo Anne’s for something, what I cannot recall because of my severe case of CRS (Can’t Remember Sh*t), and at an end cap saw skeins of variegated 100% cotton yarn. They came in a variety of earth tones, were bigger than my head (which is pretty big), and, best of all, cost all of $5.99 each. I bought one.
I have no good excuse for the fact that it took me my full dumb disease flare period to complete said dish cloth, just slightly larger than a gauge swatch at 10 x 10. I would knit a row, stare at the wall, the duck, my cuticles, the wall again, and maybe start knitting after a half hour had passed with me still holding the needles and yarn, mouth agape doing my best cod fish imitation.
As the dish cloth goes well with the kitchen countertop, I decided I would use it in there. Yet Hunky Husband intervened, “It would look nice in our bathroom and I could wash my loins with it.” The man has always loved saying loins.
He had a point. It goes well with the marble around the tub.
And the granite on his vanity.
The dishcloth is now a warshcloth (misspelling intentional, as I am originally from Baltimore, I thought it was spelled and pronounced that way for years). It belongs to my Hunky Husband, the one with the clean and muscular loins.
I would keel over and die from the hilarity if my husband told me he wanted to wash his loins (assuming he wasn't talking about a pork dinner, and maybe even then). Goofball husbands are the best.
Posted by: Carrie | August 28, 2007 at 11:29 AM
SURELY you have enough of that yarn left to make one for the kitchen, too. Or are you worried that they might get mixed up in the wash? Nah, that wouldn't bother you; you have house fowl, for goodness sake!
Posted by: Michelle | August 28, 2007 at 09:32 PM
my Dear Lauren, only YOU could turn a post about a knitted DISH CLOTH (all-be-it a "Ball Band" dishcloth) into a lusty, fantasy provoking , soft-core porn innuendo.
I'm SO glad that you're feeling better...keep it up!!
Posted by: Nancy K. | August 29, 2007 at 04:28 AM
Don't know which is funnier --- the fact that I haven't heard the term "warshcloth" in a coon's age --- or the thought that there are still loins in the world (other then pork loins, that is)! Hunky Hubby is obviously a keeper --- anyone who loves his loins enough to have a special warshcloth, must truly love the wife who knits 'em!
Posted by: Karalyn | September 01, 2007 at 03:25 PM
Thanks for the visual!!!
Posted by: Margery | September 03, 2007 at 01:50 PM