Knitting has always seemed like craft on another plane to me, a high-up one that's more or less unattainable unless you have a grandma / kind, elderly neighbour who can teach you how it's done. I see all these women shoving needles in and out of long bits of wool and producing something that isn't just a tangled mess and I think, wow, that is AMAZING.

Eventually I got the hang of it and even learned how to switch colours so I could knit stripes. I had grand visions of knitting my own jumpers, of becoming one of those women who could knit while they were watching a movie, never once taking their eyes off the screen, of investing in high-quality cashmere and making beautiful scarves using decorative stitches...
Then I realised how incredibly slow I was at knitting, and how it gave me RSI, and how expensive super-nice wool is, and I put aside the very beginnings of a black-and-green striped something and went back to making critters and drinking vodka instead.
I came across the black-and-green striped something recently (I started it so long ago I have no idea what it was originally intended to be), added a few bits and bobs and turned it into this little guy, Bug - so named to remind me what an absolute bugger knitting is!
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