We’re in a stressful period again, one that involves waiting and hoping and superstition and maybe a little internet stalking on my part… It might feel similar to expecting a baby, or rather perhaps adopting a child, since a great deal of bureaucracy is also involved – or perhaps adopting a juvenile delinquent child since there is also an element of possible destruction.
But it is definitely not about babies. At least human ones.
Or non-human animal ones… yet.
So I haven’t been doing much with my hands lately apart from gnawing on my knuckles and dialing and typing.
I guess most people don’t dial anymore, but I still love my land line and old phones with a good heft, fine audio clarity, and a solid ring.
Although people have been texting me on them, and that doesn’t work out so well…
So in the interest of self-prescribed mind-clearing meditative knitting, I started another Honey Cowl.
(the colors aren’t right – it’s more of a wine shade.)
Yes, it’s the yarn I just bought along with some deeply stashed Lamb’s Pride.
I don’t love the color combo, or maybe the colors in general yet, but it’s giving me enough of a twitch that I can re-direct some of my annoyed and nervous energy to it.
I may come around to like it in the end?
And I also might be able to wear it with that shockingly pink vintage coat that I’ve lacked the balls or tolerance of something so bright so close to my eyes to wear yet…
ASTITCHMATISM 