Judas

When I was young, my mother referred to a porcelain Richard Ginori chandelier as her Judas. It was a gorgeous Italian-with-nekkid-cherubs-with-a-fine-patina chandelier (if'n you like that sort of thing), but it was always needing some sort of repair, fixing, adjustment, or TLC. It looked something like this, only more so.

I have a Judas in my life. I am currently working on a beaded cowl (no pictures, since the person for whom it is intended might be reading this, though she doesn't know she's getting it) made with Shibui sock yarn (100% merino). I have cast this mofo on at least three, maybe four, times. I have frogged it, I have gotten a third skein of yarn (since the first was marred from frogging it), I have dropped stitches and can't get them back on because of the beading (I get how to bead, but I don't get how to fix my mistakes through the beaded sections). Last week a friend took it home with her and tinked out six rows (at 200 stitches per). I got it back and began working on it, and promptly dropped a stitch, right in the beaded section.

I am ready to take the needles and poke them into my eyes.

Of course, part of my problem is I'm working with Addi Lace needles. I used to using wooden needles, which I find give me a good balance between slippy and grippy (thank you, Franklin, for that phrase). Metal needles are all about slippy, not grippy, so the damn thing falls off the needles if I so much as sneeze.

Judas.

There is no way this is going to be done by Christmas (seeing that it was a month ago).

Of course, I've bought two more skeins, and the beads to go with them, in purple and in dark teal, so I can make two more of these things.

Maybe my brain is the Judas.