I had plans of what I was going to knit on the plane. But sitting in the airport, I bagged it, grabbed Laura’s handdyeing project, balled the first ball and cast on. I read through the first hop but knitted through the second, getting past the yoke and into the body of the next shawl: the Julia, good, mindless airplane knitting.
While we were waiting our turn to disembark at last, the boy who’d been sitting behind us mentioned to me that he used to “do that,” pointing at my knitting, and saying how much he liked those colors.
“Oh cool! I learned when I was ten.” And then to show him with a grin to watch out where that might lead him, I held up my book, opening it up and telling him I’d had a bunch of my friends sign my copy for me. He thought that was just totally cool!
And you know what? He’s right. I can’t wait. I have two pens. Baltimore! I’ll sign yours, you sign mine, if you’d like.
Meantime, good thing for the kid still at home; he’s FedExing my inhaler… No wonder the airline didn’t give me grief over it. But I didn’t forget my yarn or needles, the important stuff. (Yeah, yeah, I know. Oops.)
More when I figure out how to load pictures from here.