A Bluestocking Knits

This morning I read the Harlot’s theories about black hole knitting.  I thought about laughing, I thought about crying.

It’s using up a lot more yarn than it should, a lot more.  I’m already on the sixth ball out of the twenty I have, and it’s supposed to be a lot longer than it is.

I did the math, David did the math — separately — and it should work.  He sat on the floor with it a few weeks ago, with a pencil and another piece of paper, and finally said, "It’s quantum yarn.  It occupies another temporal and spatial reality."

Stephanie, I feel your pain.