A Humerous Anecdote
and reach the end unharmed.
Aye, trouble is now
and trouble still to come.
I just returned from my third last-minute trip to the East Coast in three weeks, this time for a funeral. I offer that by way of explanation, rather than apology; some things clearly take precedence. No cloud is without a silver lining, however, and all that time on airplanes has given me much opportunity to make progress on the knitting, in particular my new monstrous lace project. While I unpack, attempt to switch my circadian rhythms yet again, and generally get my life in order, let me offer a humerous little anecdote.
As you may have noticed, lately I've been under more than the usual amount of stress. Darting around the country, working nights, feeling far from home, and generally behind in so many of the things I'm supposed to be doing. During my last last-minute trip to the East Coast, my wonderful beau went above and beyond the usual airport runs and late-night dinners and decided to help me out a little more by washing some of my clothing that was lying around his place. This consists mostly of stuff to keep me warm in his absolutely frigid apartment- a couple of sweatshirts, a blanket I picked up in Mexico, and a pair of wool socks. He proudly presented them all to me in a nicely folded pile.
But did that sink in? A pair of wool socks. As you can see from the macro photo on the right, they are somewhat scarred by their first (and last) trip through the permanent press cycle.
The best part? When I - gently - informed him that not all of my socks could be machine washed and dried - he apologized very handsomely (and was forgiven just as handsomely, lest you all rush to his defense). And then added that he hadn't noticed that they shrunk - Weren't my feet really that small?