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Signs of spring

An allium from outer spaceWhen I was working on knitting for my book, just about everything on my needles was focused on that; I was making one shawl for my recipients, one for the publisher, shawl after shawl. Maybe that color would look better, better go make another. After I shipped everything off to Martingale, it was a relief to be able to just knit for the sheer joy of it, to be able to give my time and skill away for the love of it without having to put any of it off to the side.

And after all those shawls, I wanted some near-instant gratification. Now, if anyone had told me when I started out that I was going to end up knitting a lace scarf for every single woman who comes to our church, I would have run away screaming in protest, no way! But, starting off with a scarf or two and gradually coming to realize that I’d come to the point of no return where I couldn’t leave anyone out now, over a year and a half, that’s exactly what I did. Everyone. Except for the blind woman whose guide dog was far more interested in that exotic animal he could smell in there than she was; a scarf was the most impractical thing in the world, and she let me know it. You could just see the dog exclaiming “Dang!” with a snort as I put hers back away. That’s fine, I actually kind of expected that. I couldn’t leave her out, though, I had to at least offer.

So I was done (which felt weird). And I stopped. But living in a college town, people didn’t stop moving in and out, and the end result is, it’s been several months since I’d made the last scarf, but there were half a dozen or so new women here. Time to get back to doing at least one church scarf a week and play catchup. It’s not like I don’t have the yarn…

So, yesterday I walked up to a newly-married couple whose names I ought to remember and don’t, and said to the woman, “I *think* this is the color you were wearing last week,” as I pulled one out of my purse. “I was playing with some yarn this week.” I had the ball band tucked in there so they could read what it was made of if they were curious, without my having to play puff-it-up at them.

She and her husband were instantly surprised and delighted, and as she pulled it out of the bag, their faces were in perfect happy synchronicity. She put it on and kept it on. Elann’s Baby Cashmere, one skein, 19 stitches till it ran out, made up into what my mom calls a “yarn necklace.”

I went to my own seat, thinking at myself, remember that. Remember those expressions on their faces. THAT is why I do this. Get a clue. Do it again.

(p.s. After I did that, Jo kept trying to get my attention so she could wink and smile at me. Go Jo!)

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