I finally finished the *!$^& bat cozies but didn't actually end up watching the Cricket World Cup Final. (I didn't go to the DKC's Knit Frolic either but that's another story)
I had strong armed my Cricket colleagues into hosting a day long matchcast party complete with a giant plasma T.V. Mount Gay rum (although I really do like Appleton Estates better), Caribbean food (from Granny G) and non-Cricketing activities (a.k.a. lego, game cube and DVDS) for our sproggies but on the way there from my yoga class I had to walk past one of my favourite yarn stores and low and behold there was a single skein of Handmaiden Sea Silk in the window.
Of course I had to have it. I finally made it to lace knitting but not to the party.
Now none of my Cricket colleagues really noticed that I wasn't there. They just drank my ration of rum and ate my share of the food (which included Jamaican Black cake but I shouldn't be bitter should I? After all you snooze you lose. Right?)
For those that don't believe that there is a Knitting God, I can assure you that there is indeed a Cricket God who is vengeful and soundly punished me today for neglecting to watch the match by injuring my left hand (the details are too gory to go into) while I was reaching for Ian Brown's feature on the CWC from yesterday's Globe and Mail Focus Section.
As a result of her (?) wrath I can neither knit continental nor play Cricket for the next few weeks.
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