Going through the closet looking for something else, a very-long-utterly-forgotten ziploc bag tumbled down in front of me, a close-out from a yarn store going out of business over a dozen years ago. It’s purple. Angora. I instantly recognized the tag in it: why on earth do the French use a sketch of the rear end rather than the face of the bunny? (No, wait. Please. Do not answer that.) You got it–my very own Boule de Neige. Ten skeins’ worth! Too funny.
