That my friends is the bottom of my knitting bag. I don't think I've seen it in years. My poor row counter and mp3 player look so lonely lying there. At least they have each other for company. I wonder if they're cold with no half knit woolly projects to cuddle. (note to self: you might want to vacuum the bag out before you take pictures of it next time. Nah, I'm just keeping it real, cause that's how I roll)
I feel slightly unsettled with no projects in my bag. I know how this happened, but I still don't understand how this happened. Like when my friend got pregnant after her husband's vasectomy. She knew how she got pregnant, but she didn't understand how she got pregnant. Oh the mystery of the known.
It started with my knee (the knitting, not the pregnancy).
Yesterday my knee throbbed. I've got what I think is arthritis in my knee and life is so much worse for me when there is moisture in the air. And we had a doozy of a thunderstorm Thursday night. Friday morning was surprisingly cool, with a touch of precipitation. It felt like a spring morning back home. It reminded me of camping and how the air was always cool and full of dew at dawn. I always loved that moment in the morning before the heat of the day descended. What should have been a refreshing change of weather was instead agony. My knee ached and throbbed and screamed at me each time I moved. I tried moving around all morning, doing my general cleaning and such (see here )to see if I could "shake it off" so to speak. Around 10 I gave up. Moving made me feel like crying. I felt on the verge of a migraine so I couldn't take pain relievers (too many will push me over the edge into a migraine). I decided the only thing to do was sit on my butt for the rest of the day.
But I can't just sit on my butt and do nothing. It feels so wrong. That's why I took up knitting in the first place, so I could sit on my butt all day but still feel productive. I can't fully relax unless my hands are busy. I'm so odd.
And productive I was!
I was a woman on fire. I did so much I'm wondering if I might in fact be part machine. Am I a Borg? Some kind of monstrous alien sleeper cell masquerading as a mild mannered knitting house wife when in reality I am poised to kill and conquer mankind at the flip of a switch? I looked for a USB port in the shower this morning. I couldn't find one, so I think I'm still human, but only time will tell.
That impressive stack of crafting contains five finished sweaters, one scarf, a nightgown and a tank top. All the knit items just needed a little finishing work. The sewn items were cut and finished yesterday.
I'm telling you, sometimes I impress myself.
Of course all this productivity led to this
But no one seemed to mind.