Somehow, some way, some one told the ribber that I was all flaunting the fact that I managed to wrest a pair of ribbed socks from its cast-iron grip.
…and now its pissed at me.
The ribber and I are now locked in all-consuming death match. It is merciless.
Yikes. Best of luck.
Ouch! I sure hope your the winner :)
Time to show it who’s boss!
Yikes! I hope you come out the winner!
Give it h-ll! Actually, I’m a little envious of the machine, give it h-ll respectfully ;)
Time to teach it a lesson … do the ribbing by hand ;-)
I have confidence that you will be triumphant–you are, after all, much smarter than the ribber and will dominate it in the end. Can’t wait to see the finished sock!
Oooh, I had to cover my eyes! Perhaps if you wrestle it to the ground and…nevermind, that probably won’t work. Maybe if you caress it lovingly…yeah, that might work. It’s worth a try, don’t you think?
This sock machine may be cast iron, but it has no idea how stubborn and tuff Miss Jessalu can be! My money’s on you.
uh-oh. Death match! I know that you have the strength to win!
(Shhhh. Got “the box” on Tuesday.)
That looks so scary!!!!
It does!
(who knows WHY? But all I can think of here is…..Knit, knitter, knitter, KNIT! Swing batter, batter, SWING! Sue lawyer, lawyer, SUE)
I’ll stop. I swear. I will.
You are making rethink my fantasy of owning a CSM.
That sounds dangerous!!