The last few days have been an upset. Nothing really important, like bombs or sick people or anything (It is important to keep perspective in the middle of these things) just a bit of a blow and an upset. I worry too much in general, think too much in specific, and that means that if you give me a problem(s) I can obsess stupidly for days. If you make it a family problem I am nearly gifted with the worrying. If it is a problem that needs a solution, I can work through it, but if it’s a problem that’s out of my influence and must be handled by others, I become particularly unsettled. Waiting to see what other people decide to do with their portion of a mutual problem is very hard for me. I keep breathing deeply and quoting something to myself. I don’t know who said it, but I find it really comforting.
It’s all going to be okay in the end. If it’s not okay, then it’s not the end.
Since I have dedicated myself full time to worrying, obsessing and analysing (analysing is my favourite. Hours and hours gone to discussing and understanding the problem while nothing changes and you get more upset.) for the last few days, I’m moving a little slowly on the sweater. (I’m moving a little slowly on everything actually. My apologies to the Knit Night for not showing up last night. I swear I thought it was Tuesday. I realized it was Wednesday night and I was missing a whole day about 10pm.)
I moved from the unfinished body to an unfinished sleeve. Thought it might break up the monotony. (Um..yeah. I was not surprised to find that it didn’t break up much either.) Well, it’s double points instead of circular needles…that’s exciting? Right? (I am not certain that watching me knit the rest of the Bohus is going to be all that scintillating for you. Prepare yourselves.)
I got up this morning intending to head to High Park and hike the Black Oak Trails to walk off my some of my stress (knitting it off seemed to be ineffective this time, since I kept putting the knitting down to follow people (Poor Joe. It’s not even his fault) around the house or phone them and say emphatic things like “furthermore” and “If I were in charge” and “the more I think about it…”, all of which require wild gesturing and get very little knitting (or problem solving) done.
I came downstairs, made coffee and looked outside. The biggest, wooliest snow I had ever seen was falling from the sky.
(That is a very poor picture of my sleeve which almost, sort of shows you the size of the clumps of snow.)
I stood there and stared at it. It was incredible.
Not one of these pictures does it justice. The camera deletes at least half of the falling flakes.
I stood there and looked at it. The teenagers came and looked at it, and (for the first time in days) nobody said anything. We just stood in the snow, watching it fall. As we stood there, there was a crazy flash of light that illuminated each and every enormous flake falling from the sky. They all appeared to be suspended for an instant, then resumed falling. For a second I thought I was actually having that stroke I keep telling the girls they are giving me, and then we heard it. A very loud, strange and muffled “boom”…that was bizarre in the context of a heavy snowfall, but unmistakable. Thunder.
Thunder? Thundersnow. It was something. Totally something. I don’t remember seeing or hearing anything like it before. (Joe was not as impressed as I thought he should be.) I stood there, listening to the thunder and staring at the snow and I was struck by an interesting thought. Here I’ve been screeching around the house for a few days, upset because I’m can’t control enough stuff to keep our lives going in straight lines…and suddenly here’s thundersnow. I’m not saying I had an epiphany or anything. We still have problems, I’m still pissed and I haven’t been filled with a great sense of inner peace or any of that stuff….but for about ten minutes this morning I was truly glad that I have never been granted the wish to run the world that I always have when things are complex. Never mind the time it would take away from knitting… but I would have never, ever, in a million years, thought up Thundersnow. Nice show, Mother Nature. Wicked surprise.