Could anyone care less about my last posts? Honestly, I can hardly care less. When I find a moment to read other blogs, it generally make me feel rather shameful about my own.
My Ravelry invite arrived. I only had time to sign up. I have no idea how to work the thing yet. I will keep you posted (because maybe one person cares, right).
In a knitting related theme, I was thinking about how Joan Sutherland would sit and knit between her scenes during rehearsals. I was contemplating how I could work some of that into my life - what would be my equivalent of knit-one-purl-two-slip-one-knit-two-together, stand up and blast off some high C's, then settle back into the pattern...?
And it hit me. The last time I seriously contemplated this (because it has come up before), I was frantically stitching a gloriously fluffy boucle blanket for a boy who didn't ever come home. I knew I had mere weeks to finish it. Those weeks were actually days and the blanket was never finished. Now it lies tucked into the casket of a tiny boy; an unfinished blanket for a boy who didn't even get to start.
It always takes me off guard how a seemingly simple and uncomplicated train of thought can so easy turn into a train-wreck.