Famous Knitter Moments

It seems that lately I have had several “famous knitter moments”, that is, moments that remind me of the exploits of some famous knitters whose blogs I have been reading of late.

Moment #1: I was waiting in a restaurant for my teenage son, who was playing in a card tournament. I was, of course, eating and knitting. I went to the washroom, and as I turned to close the door, what did I see but a spare ball of wool lying fifteen feet behind me in the middle of the restaurant aisle, the trail of wool still leading to my pocket.

Moment #2: I remarked to my dear hubby that a few of the people in my email group for the “domestically challenged” were also knitters. He smiled at me and said, “ Well, of course that would make sense, knitters don’t do housework.” Hmmmm.

Moment #3: My first customer of the day, here at my place of employ, was a (usually cheerful) lady with a bunch of kleenex in her hand, and an aura of grief that was palpable. Her sorrow made her look like a blue Star Wars hologram. Seems she had to take her cat to it’s last trip to the vet this morning. The cat was 22 years old, and had never been sick. The cat just gave her “the sign”, and she did what she had to do. I almost started crying too. Then the next person through the door was dear hubby, who had just had a tiff with a relative. That relative came in next, to let us know how upsetting the tiff had been. I was reeeeeeeally upset now.
Did I turn to chocolate? Strong drink? Did I run down the street tearing out large clumps of my hair and emitting strange middle-eastern ululating noises at high volume?
No.
I dug out my dishcloth cotton and my short needles and knit up a hand-towel. By the time I was ¾ finished, I felt much calmer. Of course, I have loads of work to catch up on now…