these days of leiderhosen

Somewhere between therapy and the liquor store yesterday, I lost my knitting bag. It wouldn’t be so bad, except that: the beta urchin hat I’d restarted three times was four rows away from finished The handspun I was using I was rather proud of (and I can’t identify it to get a replacement All of this was on my slick Options #8 I have three meetings today and without something to knit it was going to be bloodbath. So I rush back to retrace my steps like a good second grader and there, hanging from a tree and tied in a bow is my unmolested bag set right out for me to find. I get really get fed up with this particular self-involved state and have said many bad things about it. And yesterday some anonymous someone does something so perfectly decent that I have to eat my words slowly and painfully. As Lazy/Stupid/Godless as I proudly am, I am glad someone else is not. If you’ve got some thanks stuck in your craw that needs to be spit out, now’s the opportunity. We’ll get