I got an email the other day: the cardiologist had been wanting to keep tabs on me, post-op and all that, would I come in?
Well, okay, not that I needed to.
It was a tad chilly in his office, so I was just as glad this afternoon that that stole I was working on was long enough now to heap up in my lap and go all the way down to my foot as I worked on it. I’d rinsed it the other night, still on the needles, to see how the pattern was coming out in real life: it was the first time I’d ever seen the stitches settled into shape in that new pattern, and I was really, really pleased. That also gave me a much better idea of what the length was by now. (Nope–keep going.)
All the better to show the thing off as I work.
I knitted. It’s a given that there are other patients in a bigger hurry in that specialty than I, thank goodness, am in. I imagined fewer cardiac episodes among calm patients making beautiful things out of soft cashmere and alpaca for their loved ones–how about we set up a knitting class in that waiting room. Yarn samples to fondle, let’s start with that.
And I knitted.
The doctor exclaimed over it as he came in and said, with a grin, “Did you start that after you got here?”
Hey, I didn’t wait THAT long!
I almost added, Go take care of someone else for another hour or so so I can finally get this finished, willya?