I hope I make it through today.
No one said that I’d have a day like this. It started out so well. Getting up, feeding the cats, picking up the paper as I go out the door to work, getting breakfast. All was going so well.
I forgot my knitting.
The socks I was working on are in the bag beside my chair at home. I can see them there. I had finished one sock and was ready to cast on another. The yarn was so nice to work with, the colors delectable. And I left them at home.
I could run home and get them. Work is close to home. But that would use up precious knitting time that my morning break has become. A time of meditation, calm, and the feel of yarn through my fingers, soothing away the tensions of the previous hours. But what is that time when you have no knitting? I would return still tense, my routine broken, making me more tense.
I must have some yarn around here somewhere.
I have a set of needles ready for emergencies. Size 5’s. They call to me. We’re here for you. Come ten o’clock you will have us. All you need is something to knit.
Something to knit. I know what I can knit but I need yarn. Something stringy. Maybe if I look under my desk in the box where I keep stuff I will eventually take home. Raffia? That would be interesting but hard on the hands. Rubber bands? No. Confetti strings? Too short. Dental floss? It's waxed -- too sticky. Plastic grocery bags? I’ve seen people cut them up and knit market bags out of them. Interesting but let’s look further.
I see it nestled at the bottom of the box, half covered by an unused mouse pad and a Christmas gift bag. Cheap acrylic but good stuff. A preemie cap will come out of this in no time. Success! My heart is settling and my breathing slows as I stroke the soft fiber. Nice yarn, nice yarn.
Problem? There’s no problem here.
I have my knitting.