Remember when I said that I’d lost a project? It happened right around when Tupp died and the book was due and I was riding my bike really far and … let’s be clear, my life was sort of scrambled. Grief and organization are not compatible for me, apparently. I lost a really cute pair of socks in progress and they were going really well too.
They were lost during such a crazy time that when I couldn’t find them, I just decided that the situation had gotten the best of me, and I gave up. Gone. They were gone, and I was a loving and accepting person who was totally the heck over stuff like that, and after I threw the tiniest little fit, I resigned myself to the loss of the sock, and to the reality that I was now a person who had lost a project. It had never happened before, and I think I took it pretty gracefully.
Fast forward to this morning when I’m up at 5:30am getting ready to head to Webs for a little fun (I hope to see some of you there, it’s a neat new idea) and then find myself realizing I’m a little short of knitting (I always think that. How can you think that on the way to a REALLY BIG YARN STORE?) I panicked, grabbed a ball of sock yarn, and then turned to the shelves in my office and grabbed an empty project bag, except guess what?
You guessed right.
I am still not the sort of person who loses a project. I may be, however, someone who doesn’t know where they are for a while, which is totally different.
(PS. Picture totally taken in the airport in Philadelphia. Almost to WEBS!)