Post-prandial Doubt

So there I was at the cinema this afternoon. I should have been soaking up the Pulitzer Prize history and the Academy Award Nominations oozing out of Meryl Streep and Amy Adams in ‘Doubt’.


Instead, right in the middle of the key speeches, I had this going on in my head:

Hm, nice moss stitch shawls… I wonder what that yarn is…

Rowan Kid Classic? Hm… no, I think it looks thicker than that; maybe it’s on small needles, but then it would look different…

[Meryl Streep gives performance with gusto; there are tears, accusations, dramatic denouments galore]

… Maybe it’s Noro Cash Iroha… no, I don’t think they make it in solid black…

It looks like… well, … hm…

[High drama, more tears, priests, nuns, and The Bronx crash past on the screen…]

… it looks as if it could be Debbie Bliss Cashmerino, perhaps in aran or chunky weight, but then with the chunky the stitches might look bulkier… I wonder what needle size they were making it in…’


Note to self: do not attempt to go to a matinee at the cinema after eating a generous helping of stir-fried ho fun in Soho the day after Unraveled.

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