I knew it this morning.  I got up (at 4am.  I can’t tell you how much I hate the lunatic who books my flights.  Hint: it is me.) and I looked at all the knitting on the chesterfield and I began to make executive decisions.  I knew what knitting I was taking, I sorted that out before I even thought about what clothes to take… I just had to decide what projects were going carry on, and which I would put in my suitcase and check.

I tossed the March socks in my bag – I’d just finished the gusset decreases, and had the better part of a foot to go, and I thought that was likely enough.  Giotto’s a very pretty pattern, but I’m not finding it quick, so the socks would carry me.
I straightened up, put the rest of the knitting in my suitcase, and had a cup of coffee.  With a little caffeine in me, I thought a little better of my plan, and added a baby sweater.  Insurance, I thought, and then I was sure.  A baby sweater and the socks?  Lots.  The baby sweater was barely started too, so that would be it for sure.  I zipped everything else into the suitcase, went to the airport, checked my bag and regretted it instantly. 

I’m underyarned.  I could tell as soon as I was parted from my other bag. I’m not sure if I couldn’t feel it because technically the bag and I were still together, and maybe that meant I was within its sphere of influence – so maybe I had the physical feeling of having enough yarn, and only when it was removed did my instincts kick in.. I don’t know.  All I know is that I finished the sock pretty promptly on the flight to Vancouver, and now I’m making short work of the baby sweater and I think I’m still about 2 hours away from being reunited with my other yarn and I’m a little worried about it. 

I might run out, and I’m surprised that after years and years and years of knitting, and years of flying a lot, that I have now, with all this experience, failed to combine the two well.  Not only do I usually have enough yarn with me, I usually have enough for unexpected delays, layovers and any other emergency.  I’m simply not into yarn risk.

This wasn’t just a mistake.  This was like taking a tired, hungry two year old to the grocery store at 5pm and walking them by the candy counter.  Like not buying wrapping tape on Christmas Eve even because you think you have lots at home. Like holding a baby while wearing a silk blouse right before you take your family portraits and not bothering to toss a receiving blanket over your shoulder.

Rookie move man.  Rookie move.