Messing with the Queue
The baby blankie looked at me like I was a disloyal mother, and I tried to hide how irritated I was with it for taking so long to get through the decreases, but valiantly put in a few more inches last night. The sleeves of the bolero sighed and looked longingly at the body as I unpinned them from the blocking board yesterday, but they will have to wait till tomorrow to be joined together in knitted wedlock. The Echo scarf even got some attention last night, but mainly I had to rewind all the loose ribbon and untangle it, and then used a covered hair elastic around the ball to keep the mess back in place, so I only got a few inches done there too. The thoughts of my friends possibly facing death, and being able to provide them with a small measure of comfort in their ordeal are just clamoring so much more. Mainly, their story looms in my mind, and I am anxious to send my thoughts their way as I knit. It is spring here, the time of birth and renewal, and I am grateful not to be in their shoes, facing the possibility of death. I could only aspire to be as brave.