On Being a Fart.

I keep saying to June, whenever I've forgotten something, or taken the keys to the grilles home with me, or misplaced the supervisor card for the chip and pin, not got around to packing up the internet orders by the time she's got here, boiled the kettle with no water in... :

'When did I turn into such a tit?'.

Just recently, I seem to be having a permanent brain fart. So far I've managed to keep it solely to less important areas of life but, I'm afraid to say, it appears to have spread to the knitting and crochet. Case in point:

King Cole Pattern number 3541

I was doing the cardi on the back of the pattern for the model in the shop to test out how it might fit on me - it's a lovely pattern you see - but I made it in the gorgeous Patons 100% Cotton DK because I wanted to do something in that yarn which I love so much but has had some bad karma for me - you know how you get a yarn and nothing seems to go right. I've just realised, maybe it's bad karma all around because just you wait and see what I've done...

You know shoulders? Like we all have? Yeah... I forgot about them...

Between the red arrows is where the shoulder should have attached to the back between the purple arrows:

As I was sewing up I knew something was wrong. It was too much effort to ease the arm into the correct position. I'm not one of these people that gets in a hissy fit about easing arms in - nothing special, no pins, just a steely determination that I can count rows or measure inches and I can trust a pattern designer (or my own brain if I've had to make alterations) to make an arm that fits properly. Can you see the fuss I made?

That's not a neat armhole... 

You have thought I'd have noticed how wide the neckline was - apparently not:

The red and purple arrows refer to where the shoulder should have been sewn. The green arrow refers to the fact that I apparently used a 4.5mm needle when I should have used a 3.25mm (the buttons I added just because I wanted to see what it would look like).

And that, dear readers, if my essay on being a fart. It's not as if I have anything better to do than ripping out silly, stupid mistakes. I did it at the bus stop this morning, in the rain. It was that pathetic fallacy that that my English teach used to tell us about.

In other news the Carphone Warehouse has allowed somebody £500 worth of credit on an address that isn't an actual address but does include our business name. They've taken seven months so far and it isn't even sorted. To say I'm mad is an understatement. All they need to do is google our business name to see that we aren't at that address and this would take 30 seconds rather than the 30 days that the fraud team are going to take to investigate it. What sort of investigating are they bloody doing!? Anyway, the police don't want to know - apparently it's the Carphone Warehouse who have been defrauded. I feel for them, I really do. It's so hard when somebody you've allowed to take out credit on an address that doesn't even exist doesn't pay. It's not what you think will happen, is it? Poor, trusting, lacking-any-sort-of-financial-checks Carphone Warehouse. Poor poor them.

Maybe we should lay a siege to their shop with our pointy sticks.

Right, I'm off,

Love Eleanor.