It’s a banner day for Kathen! It’s Grey Cup Sunday. (Grey Cup: Canadian Pro Football's Holy Grail, a game played mid-to-late November, in Canada, often out-doors [!]). I was feeling like maybe, just maybe, if I searched just one more time, I might be able to find some part of the missing stash and needles, and WIP. So down to the Catacombs Basement I padded.
This was very brave on my part. We have over 200 boxes in the basement, the clutter and junk of 21 years of marriage, years when Family Vacation Trips Elsewhere seemed more important than cleaning and organization of said basement. Throw/give away perfectly good yard-sale quality merchandise? Nah, just box it up and put it in the basement for temporary storage, just until vacation time when we’ll have that yard sale. Can you say “Never Ending Cycle”?
Anyway, bravely I padded down to the Catacombs Basement, thinking that if I just poked around a little, I could at least find some part of my Mom’s stash, which I inherited. Right quickly (considering) I found Mom’s Magazines. The handful I pulled out of the box ranged from 1955 to 1969. Whoa! Now I was excited. After 10 minutes of unstacking and restacking boxes, I finally found the stash—2 huge boxes. It was mostly Eaton’s and Hudson’s Bay knitting worsted, plus the missing Mary Maxim balls to finish my oldest WIP, ten balls of Patons Diana (once intended for a “broomstick” knit sweater) and two balls each of about fifteen other strange yarns.
This was enough to have me chortling and cackling on the way up the stairs with the first box of yarn, but what happened next was enough to convince me that my God has smiled down on my strange knitting career.
As I passed by a heap of old hockey equipment crowding the aisle, I glanced down into a box of elbow pads and saw a rolled-up plastic bag. For absolutely no good reason and without a thought in my head (like, “It’s probably a bag of pucks”), I put down the stash box and picked up the bag.
It contained my Tupperware Tackle-box of Knitting! All the stitch markers and yarn bobbins and scissors and et cetera. Woo hoo! Then just as I bent down to pick up the box, I spy with my little eye the Knitting Caddy, containing needles and the Lost WIP. I had to put the box of yarn back, but I should remember where they are when I need them. I hope.
Well, I was told by DTH that my knitting got cleaned out of the front room when we were preparing for Grey Cup Party 2001. Expletive It…disturbs
me that it ended up in the hockey equipment. Oh well.
The official words today are, “Oh frabjous day, Calloo, Callay!” (sic).
Hope to have some pictures tomorrow. Oh yeah, Toronto won.
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