There’s an old saying, “If you love something, let it go. If it returns to you, it’s yours. If it doesn’t, it was never meant to be.”
I’m not sure that is supposed to apply to knitting, but here’s my story. It’s something only true fanatics will appreciate.
I had to pick up my dh for a meeting. I threw my latest project in the bag – a felted tote in Noro Kureyon – just in case. I didn’t expect to have much knitting time, but you never know.
I hooked a couple of stitches while waiting for DH outside of his office building and set the project along side of me when he got in the car. We got to the meeting and I noticed that the project wasn’t in my bag, but thought little of it.
We finished the meeting and I drove 20 minutes back to his office. At a red light, for some odd reason, it occurred to me to hook a couple more stitches. This is not something I’ve done before, but knitting has a strange effect on the truly committed. I reached down and found that the project had gone missing!
Could it have rolled to the back of our ridiculously long van? Not likely. Had dh packed it up with his things? Even less likely. Could I have knocked it on to the ground when I got out of the car? Of course not, I’d put the project BESIDE me when DH got in the car. And if it had fallen out, wouldn’t I have seen it when getting in the car?
But the project was undeniably missing. I weighed the value of the project against the time and effort needed to return to the parking spot. I was, after all, on the other side of town. I wasn’t 100 percent sure it wasn’t in the van, but there was no place to pull over to check.
I didn’t realize until that moment how much this project meant to me! 20 minutes to get it started on dpns. Two hours of carefully counting increases. Three hours of knitting dull straight stockinette. To say nothing of the cost of the yarn to begin with. Suddenly, retrieving that project became the most important thing in the world to me. I was sure I would be devastated if I couldn’t locate it.
I thought seriously about calling the people at the place where we had the meeting and asking if they would go look for it – but I was sure I’d be laughed off the phone.
By the time I decided I had to go back, just in case it really had fallen out of the car, school was out, kids were flooding the streets, busses were stopping frequently and rush hour had begun. But I that didn’t stop me.
I finally made it back to the parking spot. There on a pile of snow was my poor project looking forlornly abandoned. I was overjoyed. No one had taken it. It hadn’t been run over. Not one stitch had been dropped!
I have a whole new appreciation for this silly tote. I’m sure I will have a strong attachment to the bag when it’s done. After all, it seems we’re meant to be together. This is very good, since I’m knitting it to replace a purse that has gone missing with my wallet and keys inside of it!
I’m not sure that is supposed to apply to knitting, but here’s my story. It’s something only true fanatics will appreciate.
I had to pick up my dh for a meeting. I threw my latest project in the bag – a felted tote in Noro Kureyon – just in case. I didn’t expect to have much knitting time, but you never know.
I hooked a couple of stitches while waiting for DH outside of his office building and set the project along side of me when he got in the car. We got to the meeting and I noticed that the project wasn’t in my bag, but thought little of it.
We finished the meeting and I drove 20 minutes back to his office. At a red light, for some odd reason, it occurred to me to hook a couple more stitches. This is not something I’ve done before, but knitting has a strange effect on the truly committed. I reached down and found that the project had gone missing!
Could it have rolled to the back of our ridiculously long van? Not likely. Had dh packed it up with his things? Even less likely. Could I have knocked it on to the ground when I got out of the car? Of course not, I’d put the project BESIDE me when DH got in the car. And if it had fallen out, wouldn’t I have seen it when getting in the car?
But the project was undeniably missing. I weighed the value of the project against the time and effort needed to return to the parking spot. I was, after all, on the other side of town. I wasn’t 100 percent sure it wasn’t in the van, but there was no place to pull over to check.
I didn’t realize until that moment how much this project meant to me! 20 minutes to get it started on dpns. Two hours of carefully counting increases. Three hours of knitting dull straight stockinette. To say nothing of the cost of the yarn to begin with. Suddenly, retrieving that project became the most important thing in the world to me. I was sure I would be devastated if I couldn’t locate it.
I thought seriously about calling the people at the place where we had the meeting and asking if they would go look for it – but I was sure I’d be laughed off the phone.
By the time I decided I had to go back, just in case it really had fallen out of the car, school was out, kids were flooding the streets, busses were stopping frequently and rush hour had begun. But I that didn’t stop me.
I finally made it back to the parking spot. There on a pile of snow was my poor project looking forlornly abandoned. I was overjoyed. No one had taken it. It hadn’t been run over. Not one stitch had been dropped!
I have a whole new appreciation for this silly tote. I’m sure I will have a strong attachment to the bag when it’s done. After all, it seems we’re meant to be together. This is very good, since I’m knitting it to replace a purse that has gone missing with my wallet and keys inside of it!
1 comment:
oooh, it's like knitting karma or something. That bag must love you!
That's one of those "phew" moments if I ever heard one!!
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