Sigh. Maybe I'll put it back on the porch for the birds to make something useful with.

You know when you work on something, plan it for a long time, put a lot of thought into it, into it's execution and then . . . . you just end up hating the darn thing like it's a living thing capable of malice?
Yeah; I'm there. So there. I. Hate. This. Sweater.

Maybe I hate it because it should be so lovable. It's so close to being nice! It's soft and cozy and really makes a wonderful fabric, the pattern I've adapted is coming out super; but still I just feel like the color is a total bloomer. I tried hard to take a plunge and work off my comfort-palette and I feel like Amy Rose has slapped me across the face.
Sigh.
I'm going to finish her, though (ripping out mohair is a fate worse than, well, lots of things are actually far worse, but I just don't want to do it, plus since I like the sweater itself, there's no point in my recycling the yarn). Heck, I've made it to the sleeves, that should take only a couple days to finish.
Then I'm going to do something COMPLETELY DIFFERENT.

Yup. That kind of completely different. Pfffffptttthhhh! Ravelry should start an adoption agency for ughs. (If you've never taken a spin through the ughs on Ravelry, you should - it's better than booze, chocolate, coffee, and flowers all rolled into one - though not better than spending 2 seconds with my spouse, but he's mine so put it out of your mind.)