At a glacial pace

I love knitting lace, but it moves along at an annoying slow pace. Slower than molasses in January. Slower than a comatose turtle. Slower than your average glacier.

This weekend, I worked on my pretty lace shawl, and watched pretty lace DVD's.  Six episodes of Downton Abbey ( Season 6) and one Edith Wharton movie later, I finished five rows. 

A half inch of lace at best. 

Today it is all the exquisite slowness.