I just sat down to write to you and suddenly realized the problem that we’re going to have together over the next few weeks. I’m knitting a blanket. Blanket knitting is not always super exciting. There’s progress here, but seriously, I could take a picture from yesterday and whack it up here and you’d never know. Not for a minute. (Actually, not true. There’s totally one of you, maybe four, who are absolutely the types to enlarge the picture, count the rows and call me on it. You know who you are.)
(And that actually is a picture from yesterday so don’t bother. My camera battery is dead and the spare isn’t where I left it.)
Watching me knit this blanket is going to be like they decided to have a grass growing competition, and televise it. You’d keep tuning in and all they would be showing is the grass, and there would be this guy Rick, and periodically, Rick would lean over, measure the grass carefully and then say "no change yet folks, but we’ll keep watching." Then, on the commercials, they would just promote the special documentary coming on after the grass growing competition, you know, the one called "Paint: How does it look while it’s drying?"
I’m sure that eventually, I’ll screw up or run out of yarn or something, but for now, you just might want to brace yourself. This is going to be as exciting as the conversation that Sam and I keep having about clothing, her places for keeping them, and the relationship that could exist between the two if only she would see that I am right.