It is with great sadness, and a good dose of bemusement, that I write this. My Alpine Lace shawl has died. The cause of death is unknown. I do know that today I spent an hour running a thread around the edges so I could block it smoothly, gave it a warm bath while I wove in the ends on the Molly Pitcher socks, squeezed it gently to remove excess water, and spread it out to block.
And found five holes, involving multiple strands of broken yarn. My shawl is not going to the State Fair. It probably won't go to the county fair in 5 days. And it's never even been worn.
I'm not ready to bury it yet.