Old-Fashioned Fruitcake
Alas, I have of late fallen victim to a Plague of Frog – the knitting kind of frog, that is. (Rip-it, rip-it.)
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Of the 12 most recent projects I have listed on Ravelry, fully six are either frogged, waiting to be frogged, or frustratingly unfroggable. That is a 50% survival rate.
But from each failure, I learn something.
His knowledge of country lore was a little hazy, but he felt fairly sure that if the cows lay down, it meant rain. If they were standing it would probably be fine. These cows were taking it in turns to execute slow and solemn somersaults; and Tyler wondered what it presaged for the weather.
It’s a strange thing about determined seekers-after-wisdom that, no matter where they happen to be, they’ll always seek that wisdom which is a long way off. Wisdom is one of the few things that looks bigger the further away it is.*
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