I’m still working on the mohair shawl after rethreading the needles through all those open stitches. I am just trying to use up the last of that yarn. It’s not the last though, there’s more somewhere. It lurks, waiting in the dark recesses of the closet, silently mocking me.

The shawl is just miles and miles of stockinette stitch. It’s quite mindless and soothing, which is something I need at the moment.

So I have my official start date for my school, the kids curriculum outlined for the year and two + months of their planned schoolwork residing in MS Office and copies on my flash drive, as well as a full list of menus for our household. I believe this organizational anomaly represents a rift in the time/space continuum and may potentially signal the end of life as we know it. I don’t believe I was the cause of the rift, but if I was, I’m really sorry.

Of course none of this organizational genius can prevent me from having to do the magical printer dance every Monday, whereby a very secret and ancient ritual I convince my laptop that yes, the printer on our home network does indeed exist. I loathe MS Office for this reason. I loathe the magical printer dance.

Back to the mohair of evil and the soothing stockinette of brainlessness.

Law of mohair #143 All mohair articles larger than 2 cubic inches knitted on metal circular needles will reject said needles when the article is in a resting state prior to completion.

Law of mohair #143 appendix a) articles larger than 2 cubic inches that have successfully rejected knitting needles in a resting state will spontaneously begin to unravel.

Further scientific study on the unique and often frustrating physical nature of mohair is required. The laws of mohair although baffling seem to be finite and immutable.

In a house full of gameboys, comics, books, and movies that my child chooses knitting. Sweet.

And speaking of games. Darling husband decided that I should have a Nintendo DS lite, and Pokémon Pearl to go along with it. So my free time is currently being consumed traveling through the Sinnoh region filling my pokédex and battling team Galaxy. I just beat the 8th gym leader and I’m leveling up before challenging the elites.

If you have no idea what that means, you’re probably a mature adult. However, I am not a mature adult. Case in point, mature adults are not tempted to declare “Mortal Kombat!” when they see a really good sale on yarn. Or shout out “Merino! I choose you!” when shopping for sock yarn.

You have to admit some yarns do sound like Pokémon names. Koigu? It could be a yarn or it could be a water type Pokémon that oozes silk. You just never know, it’s not limited to yarn, knitting needles too. Addi Turbos could possibly be a hold item to boost speed in battle and help you escape from wild Pokémon.

I thought I’d used it up with the last shawl for my mom. I thought it was gone.

It’s not gone.

I was sorting through my stash of yarn (because I LOVE my new swift) and found another hank of it. It will not end. It will not go away.

It’s sort of creepy, I think it eats other yarn in order to survive. Or maybe the mohair yarn is some kind of self replicating mutant; like a vampire, victims of its bite turn into cream colored mohair.

I’ll knit another shawl. Another shawl that uses miles and miles of stockinette stitch. Yeah, that’s the ticket. And I’ll wear a crucifix just in case, to keep me from transforming into mohair yarn while I’m knitting.

You know, as soon as it *is* really used up I’ll find the perfect pattern that I *must* knit up in that *exact* yarn.