Me Seester Fie Dallah

My sister is precious to me. Even though she’s nine years older, we are absolutely the best of friends. Plus she’s the sweetest thing ever (except in the morning – a word of warning: NEVER say “Good morning, Sunshine!” in a sickly singsong manner upon her arrival at the breakfast table . . . unless you like grapefruit juice shot in your eye). That’s why I couldn’t say no when she made the request. And, if you recall, I made a wobbly scarf with the remaining yarn as a surprise. The only requirement was that I get a picture of the items being worn. Did I get such a photo? Nooooooooo-oooooooooo. I don’t mean to be a selfish knitter but come on.

A nasty voicemail shamed her into finally calling to grovel for my forgiveness – given, of course. How could I resist? And here are the promised pix. She is just preciousness embodied!


I’m still in love with the way the color swirled around in the knitting – yummy!


The scarf didn’t swirl but obviously matches. She loves it, or so she says. What else can she say?


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