Flirting With Disaster

ETA: Apparently, google seems to think I'm some kind of computer robot querying thousands of websites. One minute I'm checking out your websites and the next, I'm banned. The last spot I visited was the Rainey Sisters where I tried to view a photo link. Your knitting nurse is being held hostage by google and cannot visit any blogger websites which I find ludicrous. Of course, getting help from google is simply impossible. Like a dog chasing its tail, each help or contact button I press for google sends me back to the original site. It sucks. Sigh.... If you have any savvy in this area, can you please enlighten me? I know CPR, indeed, I know advanced life support. I can ease pain in the most distraught of people. I understand medicalese like you can't believe, but unless it's point and click and rather idiot proof, I'm at a loss with this high falutin' internet thing. Please advise. If all else fails, send Bill Clinton...

Sincerely,

Rudee

As a small child with long, dark tresses, I innocently went to bed one night and awoke to some creature biting the hell out of my neck. It was a wasp, and those nasty things sting more than once. Since that time, I've been deathly afraid of stinging insects. I recall the fright from having that thing tangled in my hair and stinging me repeatedly. I can still see the dead wasp from that night more than 4 decades ago. In my mind's eye, it's the size of a pterodactyl.

About two weeks ago, I began to pay attention to the hive of activity going on behind my favorite spot on my front porch. Whatever had been flying up the pillar on my porch began to outgrow their lodgings. There was always a flurry of activity around that spot whenever I went out to water the plants. When I'd sit in the swing, none of them bothered me, but the watering drove them nuts. I haven't been able to wash the porch in 2 weeks either and the spiders were beginning to take over what the winged insects hadn't. Since I thought the flying insects were bees, I didn't want to disrupt them-bees are in enough trouble. But... when nature began to take over the porch, I paid notice.


Last Thursday, I finally called the rental management company and asked them to send a professional exterminator out to fix this problem. After about a week, Bill the Bug Killer came by to take care of business-that's him behind the swing. I thought it was a bit over the top when he donned the bee keeper hat and gloves, but when he began to spray up that pillar, the WASPS began to buzz his head as though they were insane. For several hours after he left, the flying critters were trying their damndest to get back into the pillar he'd sprayed, powdered and plugged up. Bill says they'll give up and go elsewhere after a couple of days. He also said there were likely hundreds of them living in there in their nasty little tunnels. Busy little buggers.


So, I've pondered enough, done the math, brewed enough coffee and cast on for the tank top. As you can see, I'm not much of a sketch artist, and the arms on this sketch seem ginormous, but I think you get the general idea. I'm shooting for a V neck tank with a pretzel type cable called Flirtation (from Vogue Stitchionary, Volume 2, Cables, p. 55) going right up the middle. I'm only showing arms on the sketch because I think I want to knit a peek-a-boo cap sleeve onto this. What do you think? Cap sleeve showing bare shoulders or no? I think I'm going to call this piece, Flirt.

Disclaimer: I snapped the photo of Bill from INSIDE the house which is why you can't see much. Once bit, twice shy...