Today I went to a meeting. It is in many ways my least favorite sort of meeting, one in which people interrupt each other, although very good-naturedly, and get off track and ramble around and perhaps eventually come back to the point. Going to this committee’s meetings often feels like a poor use of my time, although its grant-making to small churches is work absolutely worth doing.
This time I was smart. I let a colleague give me a ride, and I brought some knitting. The Weasley sweater I’m knitting for The Princess was at too sensitive a juncture (just picture five separate balls of yarn) for taking on the road, so I decide to work on the felted purse for my niece. Except I could not, in the unspiritual clutter of my home, find the purple yarn intended for it. I remembered a lovely, fuzzy pink blend of merino wool and who knows what else, grabbed the end of a ball of Fun Fur, and I was off to the races.
(Yes, in the background of the picture is that prize of Christmas Past, Tickle Me Elmo. He still laughs, but he no longer vibrates. And he belongs to the dogs now.)
I must admit that although I am happy to have finished Little Virginia Niece’s gift, my hands were too tired to do much on the Weasley this evening. I have about 16 more rows of that dratted letter “H” to go.
But I do have a pink hat.