Tune your air violins, people, and place them under your chins. Pick up your airbow and ready yourself to play, for this is a real sob story that will call for some plaintive theme music.
This is a picture of the sweater I was knitting pre-Dorothy:
Pre-Dorothy, I had knitted the back, the fronts, the collar, one sleeve, and half of the second sleeve.
How many stitches have I had a chance to knit since bringing Dorothy home to my lovely abode?
Zero. Zero stitches.
I know, I know. Do I want a pen so I can write down my sad story?