Yesterday’s yarn felt like work. I’ll get to it: but today is our Sabbath and it just didn’t feel right for the day. It needed to rest.

I went looking for whatever in the stash might strike me to make something to make someone happy–the people and the possibilities were endless, I dithered longer than I wanted to and finally decided that the only way to narrow it down was to start with my eyes. Go.

I had no idea what I was looking for, just a familiar sense that when I found it, I would know.

There–beneath several other ziplocs. A long-ignored goodly start to a shawl in some laceweight purple silk on 3.5mm needles (ouch). It wasn’t begun the way I would start it now; still, I’ve never frogged it, not after all the work that’s gone into it. There was a snag that needed to be fixed and there were circular needles that had totally kinked up in that small bag.

It just needed a little love.  I tugged around the snag a moment but shrugged, eh, later, it’ll be fine. I had no idea why, but this was it, this needed to be done, the sooner the better. I knitted a row, transferring it to new needles as I went down the  long row and weighing whether I still felt that way about it.

I did.

After a year in time-out? Why now?

I don’t know. But as I picked up that ziploc this afternoon and opened it to get a good look, all I can tell you is it felt wonderful that I had it in my hands again at last despite any arguments I could make against it. It was entirely a surprise–I have no idea what there is about it. Yet.

I’ve learned to take that feeling when it’s strong like that and just run with it as fast as I humanly can.  It’s humming along nicely.