Just finished Mikey the Monkey for my friend’s little boy, since the last monkey I knitted for him scampered away. That first monkey’s name was Maurice, and he was a vision. He was made of the softest, burgundy yarn, and he had the shapliest little ears. Anyway, sometimes I wonder who found him, and what they thought at the time. I wonder if — wherever he is — he is loved. . .

Well, take two. Mikey the Monkey is new and improved — his tail is long enough to wrap around his little keeper’s wrist, so that he cannot get away. Ha!

–S.