hand eye crafts

I never, ever buy the yarn that a pattern I like is made in.  It's usually too expensive, and there is already so much yarn in this house, odds are there will be something  that can be used to make just as lovely a garment. Seldom, though, do I ever have precise matches.  The pattern I like calls for more yarn than what I have on hand. or the pattern calls for considerably less, which leads to the problem of leftovers and what to do with them. A couple of days ago, I found Perfection.  Pattern I love, yarn I'd just bought with exactly the amount needed for the project.  I foresaw a garment in a new color, easily knit and put together, and I cast on with a smile.  A fancy rib back, just a rectangle, and two sleeves that are variations on feather-and-fan.  Couldn't be simpler. I have started that freakin' back THREE times.  And have always messed up the stitch count.  So I decided to try a sleeve first.   Yeah. So ...

All week, once I'd made the decision to come to Tennessee, the panic had been building.  "I cannot go back inside that house" kept playing over and over in my mind. Today, I went back into that house, and in less than two hours had my car completely filled.  And I had only worked in one room. This is more than I can do.  I cannot do it alone, but even if there were a team of movers somewhere waiting for my call, I have no way to pay them.  And where are they going to take everything?  We don't have room in the house in Athens for even a sixth of this stuff. So I found myself sitting in Daddy's room, sweating and sobbing, and begging him and Mama to forgive me.  I wasn't doing anything right by them, and I was so sorry.  I couldn't do all the things that had to be done, and I was so sorry.  I knew they were angry with my, and disappointed, and hurt, and I was so sorry.  It is just too much.  And I am so, so sorry.