There was a women’s social and a dinner at church tonight. Chocolate torte #3 has been dispensed with. But before I left, Richard was reminiscing with a chuckle over the time when someone at another potluck there had asked, in a bit of indignation, “Who assigned the Hydes SALAD!? I was looking forward to that torte!”
When the typecast fits, bake it.
So there I was. Brian’s grandma took me aside and told me–I wasn’t sure if she said it was all of them or just the one–but at least one grandchild, then, went to bed last night with their hat firmly kept on their head and in the morning, there it stayed.
She couldn’t begin to know how much that meant to me and that she’d told me. Moments like that keep me knitting.
Meantime, I finished the shawl for the nurse fighting cancer this afternoon, rinsed it and laid it out to dry in the round. It’s always so magical, that moment when a glob of random yarn loops transforms into its glorious self and you step back and actually, finally, after all those hours, get to see. It was such a sense of accomplishment, and its purpose so close to who I am and why I do what I do that, even though I tried, I could not get myself to settle on any new ball of yarn to start something else. Not yet.
It felt so strange to walk out the door with no knitting project. I mentioned that to Nicholas’s mom at the dinner.
She looked at me and smiled. “It’s okay to rest between projects.” I think she’s right–but note that I had to think about it awhile first.
Okay, that’s long enough. I’m home. Cast on!