Knitting is lost to . . .

I’m sorry, but the knitting has been stalling a little bit here of late. I’m not sure why, but I’m having trouble getting anything done. The Fishtrap Aran is currently7  inches long, which isn’t to bad as far as progress is concerned, but it’s still not moving as fast as I would like. Some of you might think of this as pretty steady work, but I am not, mostly because I have a list of projects taped over my desk filled with things that I need to knit in order to call the Zimmmermann project done. No one said this would be easy.

Anyway, here’s a total cop-out of me blaming everything else that is taking up my life.

1. I finished the second draft of my fourth book on Friday. One would think that with my life as a writer suddenly being free from most of its writing that it would make a lot more time for my life as a knitter, but that isn’t so.  Oddly enough my life as a writer isn’t that different from me regularly, which is a little upsetting.

2.I hate to say this, but I have finally registered for the second in a series of tests that will pretty much determine the rest of my future. This is probably the most important one too. The first was eight hours over a variety of subjects. I passed very well. (In the top two percent of the nation.) This next one has about the same amount of questions, but is done in about half the time. Yikes. So I am up to my eyeballs in prep work for this, as you can well understand.

3.I just walked home with a box of books on my head. This isn’t really related to the above, but I felt I should tell you this because it’s a pretty interesting story. Saturday at the bookshop (another reason I’m falling behind at the knitting, working two, or more, days a week at the bookshop) about ten minutes closing, we get a donation of about twenty boxes of books. I didn’t know twenty boxes of books could fit in our shop. Most of it was not very good stuff — you know, novels from the seventies, dusty book jackets, that sort of thing. That is the sort of thing that we can’t sell. I hate to say it, but we don’t take crap.

Anyway, there were a lot of classical novels, English, American, and European. I wasn’t sure what to do with these, so I set them aside for the manager to make the final call on. She apparently, I don’t know for certain, out of my four bosses at that shop, I don’t see her often, didn’t like them. So the other manager (I swear, the place is crawling with bosses) told me I was more than welcome to take them home. He even offered to store them in the shop till I could walk them all home. (You’ll note he didn’t offer me a ride.)

My back was killing me, and I couldn’t really carry them all. I set some aside for me to take home next time I work, and I put some in a box for me to take home today. I probably got it a little too heavy, because my arms were a little funny feeling short in into my walk. I could have carried them, but there had to be an easier way.

I remembered something that I’d read in some children’s book when I was a child. (I remember some of the oddest things.) There were Mexican women who would carry heavy buckets of water on their head, to save their arms the work. I thought that it was a good idea, and I’m not afraid to make myself look like an idiot, so up they went.

It wasn’t that hard, and it really did make them easy to carry. I got some of the oddest looks though. Isn’t odd how doing something like carrying a box on your head, or knitting in public can make people look at you funny? Just thought I would point this out to you. Maybe you’ll have to carry a heavy box a long distance some day and not care about your hair do? You never know.

(Don’t ask me why I told you that. I don’t know. I thought it would be more funny in my head. I like to say funny things, it just doesn’t always pan out.)

4. I also bought a book on clever ways to store books. (Which may add to the problem.) So some knitting time in the future is to be dedicated to finding a way to store these books, while still making it all “look pur-tee”



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