Ball of hate?

Strong words I'll admit for a little ball of pretty looking wool, but let me tell you a little story and you may understand why.

Let me take you back to a lovely Saturday morning. The sun was bright and shining and a family of four set off on an adventure across a strange land called 'the fens'. They went in search of cathedrals, cakes and wool.

After an uneventful journey, crossing 3 borders and many checkpoints, they arrived in the city of Ely.

On arrival our intrepid explorers began their search of the city. This immediately led to the discovery of a fine local eatery.

After the completion of a very fine lunch with the rare event of well behaved children, our adventurous foursome then divides, with one brave soul sent off to explore the far reaches of the City in the search of beautiful gems in many colours (otherwise known as wool), whilst the rest of the party went deeper into the depths of the cathedral.

Our brave explorer found many gems. After procuring some gems to add to a growing collection, our intrepid explorer rejoined with the rest of the adventurers. The adventure continued with additional cake consumed and a pleasant stroll by a river. Unfortunately the adventure had to come to an end and our weary adventurers returned home, tired but triumphant.

During the next two days the spoils of the trip were proudly displayed, in near reach for much stroking and squashing. Much time was spent over the difficult decision of what to make with such a fine choice of yarn.

Eventually the choice was made, the perfect project for the perfect yarn was found. However before such a project could begin there was the task of converting the hank of wool into a workable ball of wool. Our brave sole adventurer gladly volunteered for this task. Slowly and carefully the yarn was gently unfolded, untied and then gently and slowly the unravelling began, one loop after another. Until...... the bleeping, bleeping, bleeping bit of string became a tangled, knotty, spaghetti bowl of mess. Not to be daunted our intrepid explorer accepted this cruel twist of fate and carried on unravelling. And unravelling and unravelling and unravelling and unravelling and yet even more unravelling. Minute after minute, hour after hour, day after day. Every free minute was spent unravelling. The beautiful yarn twisting and fluffing with every centimeter. Finally after many days a ball was finally created. The crowd shouts for joy, celebrations ensue, let the project commence.

Unfortunately the love has gone, the sheen looks dull now, the colours don't quite seem the same as it did when it was first discovered.

However I am determined this bad experience won't deter me and I will fall back in love with this wool again. The project has been cast on and rows have been knit (admittedly some have been reknit several times and I now know why you use lifelines when knitting lace), but regardless the project is begun and I will love it.

Apologies for a long story for all non-knitters and hope my fellow blipers have had a less frustrating week.