I have come to accept the idea that I might just be cray. Not the kind of cray that needs immediate medical attention, I don’t think.
Gracie had a doctor’s appointment today, and this was an event I was looking forward to all day. It meant that there would be at least 30 solid minutes of knitting time in which I would feel absolutely no guilt for sitting and knitting and not tending to the million other tasks I have on my plate. Nothing else to do, but knit.
Much to my chagrin, the minute I walked in I was handed an form. I needed to fill it out with all the information said doctor already had. Just to make sure.
Two minutes of knitting time, gone.
Okay, not to worry, I thought. I’ll just whip this out, and then spend at least 10 minutes waiting. Of course, the moment I put my pen down, Grace’s name was called. I awkwardly grab the clipboard, purse, pen, and knitting bag with the “Zombies are crap at knitting” design that I just realized perhaps was inappropriate in a children’s waiting room, and shuffle towards the scale for Lady G to be weighed and measured.
And then the examining room. After the nurse asks the standard questions, surely there was time to knit up a few rows? Nein. Like a well-oiled machine, the doctor swoops in with an efficiency that I never knew could be so annoying. Grace is checked out, healthy as a horse, and we are on our way.
Total stitches knit: 0.
So what do I do? Drop it for the day and do the laundry? Screw that. I poured a glass of wine and turned on Game of Thrones. (Excellent knitting background by the way. It’s so confusing, even the people who are paying attention don’t know what’s happening.)
I present a new WIP!
It’s my very first hat, and I’m a little excited about it. This one is for Grace’s birthday, which isn’t until September, but I was in the mood for something a little chunkier after finishing an entire shawl made from miles of sock yarn in garter stitch.