I know that not a lot of men will admit this, but I love me a man-purse. (No, not a murse, I don’t like two words being pushed together like that.) I don’t call it a messenger bag, because it isn’t always a messenger bag. I don’t call it a back-pack because it usually isn’t that. It is a man-purse, be a man and own up to it. Man. Purse.
Anyway, the man-purse that I usually favor is a little half-backpack one strap dealie that I picked up from a thrift store. I found out, once I got home, pleased with its shape and single strap, that it was made by Similac. I wasn’t really bothered by that, even though I’m not a big fan of them and their stuff. (What can I say, when I was a baby I seem to remember that I got my milk elsewhere. Anyway.) It always made for a funny story. (And by the way, the man-purse is so handy for knitting, a little sleeve or a sock in progress, throw in a book, a sandwich, water bottle, and the usual amount junk I carry, and it is still pretty roomy, without being a huge bag.)
Well, I apparently forgot to screw the cap on aforementioned water bottle. (In the summer I don’t put it in the bag, because, while walking around, I take a swig a few minutes. I don’t do this during the winter.) I forgot to screw it on all the way, I should say. It was still on it enough so it wouldn’t fall off, but not enough to be water tight. Well, as I rushed about for a few days, moving the bag from a different spot in the house several times, some of it may, MAY, have sloshed out.
Oh, lord. And of course, this had to happen as I was rushing to get ready for work. I had my sock-in-progress in it (now drying), my book(ditto), a bunch of papers I threw out, five ruined pages of notes on the latest book, written with a fountain pen, so the ink ran to the point I couldn’t see them and these had to be at the bottom. And then the bag was soaked too.
So I grabbed one of those little cotton drawstring bags that I’ve got a thousand of, but can never find when I need one. I tossed in a book, a pack of crackers, then boggled at what knitting to bring. I go through phases with my knitting — sometimes I can’t get enough and seize every chance I get to knit, sometimes I’m content to let the knitting happen at home. (Guess what phase I am in now.) Well, the problem is, I don’t really have a lot that is, well, portable, besides the sock. The Shaded Aspen Leaf Sweater is certainly out, it needing a hem and seems. (And I was pushing it with that one, even at the best of times.) The TSLS is well, big, really big. It comes up to my waist at this point, and well, it’s pretty and light, but it is, well, big.
Well, I do need a hat. I thought that to myself as I looked about my cramped and wool-filled bedroom. I thoughtfully had laid out the yarn I wished to use for the for my Icelandic/Raglan sweater, and thought, “Swatch cap!”
So I pulled out a size three, sixteen inch needle, jammed that with my yarn into my bag, tossed in David Copperfield and took off.
I was working at the bookshop that day, so I had to take knitting. It could get a little dull without it. (I could read if need be.) I’m glad I did — it was a pretty slow day. And amazingly enough, there wasn’t a single customer while I was trying to count for the cast on and stuff. I don’t know what I did to deserve that, but I hope I do it again. I got all the ribbing done, and added a little color pattern too. (I’d thoughtfully grabbed a ball of wool for that too.) Like I said, slow day.
This shall be my travel knitting for a while. Till it’s done really. I can’t always be counted on for that amount of forethought, but I think I might be able to manage. I’m not sure about what I want to do for the color patterns on my sweater. (I know I want to have one at the hem that is the second pattern in the yoke, I like my sweaters to have unity even if no one notices but me, but I’m not certain what pattern to use, or what color it should be.) So I plan to grab another ball of wool or two and play with patterns on the hat till I find one that I like, only when I’m out and about though, I’m fighting the urge to work on it now. And I’ll get a hat. (I hope that by knitting a hat, I shall trigger spring. This sort of thing has worked in the past (i.e. I learned to knit sweaters that fit, then I lost 40 pounds) but never on such big scale. I’ll knit fast.)