We had eaten the last peach, and I needed a skein of brown that was not the ones that I had.

It would be a fast dash into the LYS; you don’t leave Andy’s ripe fruit in a hot car any longer than you have to.

Which is how I stopped by Fillory Yarn on the way home.

I’d been told months ago that there was now a Thursday afternoon knitting group there; I hadn’t been thinking about it at all but yes there was. I had wondered from time to time if any of my old group had started coming again post-covid, but I didn’t recognize a single face.

One woman at the table said, Oh sorry, and leaned over to move her purse so I could stoop down to check out the Rios in browns near floor level.

I picked up two slightly different colorways from two different bins and, looking up at her, asked, Which one would you pick for a moose? I need a moose in my landscape.

She wasn’t expecting that and laughed a little.

I told her about the moose in Alaska that had stood at the hood of our car and looked in at us inquisitively like, What ARE you?!

She told me about a moose she’d seen and how cool it was. She was quite definite: That one.

I’d actually been leaning towards the other–but as I mentally pictured it with Cian I knew she was right and was glad I had asked.

Wait, though. I found a third skein in its bin that had less variation to it. Yes! And I wouldn’t have found it if she hadn’t been so sure, helping me see what I needed to see. I owe her one, whoever she is.

A little bit of conversation and then I had to run rescue my peaches and nectarines and Green Gage plums from the heat. But I came away feeling like, it’s been four and a half years since I had an in-person knitting group. I think I’ve finally found it.

So now I just have to knit that moose before next Thursday so she can see what she helped make happen.