Coping Skills

I have to admit that I wondered if I was the only one around here who was utterly flummoxed by the plethora of letters that have been taped to our doors recently.  This year's rather excessive snowfall has resulted in the need for a great deal of plowing in my condo complex and the directions for how to handle locating our vehicles during this trying time have been less than clear.  

First, I went with the old rules which stated that we were to move our cars after the plows had cleared the general areas.  They would return later to do parking spots.  Then we were chastised for not moving our vehicles with enough enthusiasm and we all started relocating at the first hint of snow in the air.  Next, the management company told us that the plow people were complaining about all the cars scattered hither 'n thither while they were trying to clear the roadways and suggested that we move/not move our cars.  (I had a minor stroke trying to figure that one out.)  Lastly, we received a copy of the minutes from the last board meeting in which the records seem to indicate the the plow guys love us more than chocolate and professional baseball for all our efforts at making the cars disappear.

My head hurt.  It hurt a lot.  My knee also hurt because the plows haven't really been coming with any regularity and I've been struggling through snow and ice to get to my truck which has been obediently parked in The Land Of Far And Away.  

But, I wondered if it was really just my own inability to understand the directions.  Perhaps everyone else "got it."  I didn't dare say anything for fear that I might become known as the Parking Impaired Lady amongst my fellow residents.  Today, though, I think I may have gotten some reassurances on this matter.

It snowed last night.  About five inches fell on our happy little community.  And no one, not one person, moved their cars.  All were left right where they were parked in happier, sunnier times.   I went out this morning to run errands and opted to leave the truck over in The Land Of Far And Away just in case the plows came through to clear the parking spaces.  But, I was one of the few who bothered.  Much to my surprise, the plows did return and my space was scraped.  No one raced out to accommodate this process, though.  Cars were all left stubbornly in their snow-covered spaces.  Now, this could just mean that everyone was napping, in the shower or knitting complicated lace at that precise time and unable to go out to move their vehicles.  But, I don't think so.

I just went out to put the truck back in its space and happened to glance at the bulletin board in the common hallway, the one where the sign was tacked up to remind us to move our cars during snow events.  And it was then I knew I wasn't the only one with Parking Confusion.

Someone had removed the sign and flipped it to the wrong side, the blank side.  It's not just me...

The whole parking conundrum served to distract me from my decision to not attend SPA this year, though.  That's a useful function, I suppose.  It was a tough call in some respects, an easy one in others.  Ultimately, it was the right one, but there were a few moments of regret.  I decided to fill the hours spent at home instead of frolicking with the other fiber enthusiasts with activities that were at least in the genre.  Once the whole "where the heck am I supposed to put my truck???" issues were past, I had a clear mind with which to work.

At the Dollar Store, I satisfied my shopping needs with the purchase of a new clock.  A dollar is far less than I would have spent at the vendor's tables and the clock tickles me almost as much as new yarn.

It's a sheep clock!  And it works...which isn't always the case with dollar clocks.

I finished spinning up the first bobbin of merino/silk that has been on my to-do list for the school vacation week:

Toy-Doo, briefly freed from the loving but painful clutches of The Big, Fluffy Kitty, seemed impressed.

Most importantly, though, I made it possible to state clearly and for the record that I have conquered the pattern which so confounded me last summer.  With the gracious assistance of Anne and her kind donation of the perfect yarn, I can now join the ranks of the cool kids.

I have knit the Monkey.

Yes, I now have Monkey socks!  I'm all giddy and glowing from the pride!  The Monkey is off my back and on my feet.  When this yarn arrived as part of an extremely generous package, I saw Monkeys almost immediately.  I waited, though.  I distinctly recalled how much trouble the pattern gave me last summer.  But you can't argue with yarn.  The slightly shiny blend of merino and tencel, together with the very subtle shading was exactly what was needed to let the lace pattern pop.  It had to be done.  And I did it in less than a week...which is sort of stunning.  It is also due to the fact that the cuff on these socks is considerably shorter than my usual preference.  But, I'm not going to quibble.  They knit up fast even if you take into consideration the whole cuff thing.  

And I love them.  Deeply.  Passionately.  Perhaps even to the point of inappropriateness.  Thanks, Anne!  You have great taste in yarn!

So, with Monkeys, responsible shopping decisions and the school vacation behind me, I must look forward to the next project.  The winter isn't over yet and I suspect that the Parking Wars are also far from over.  If the weather reports are true, then there may be another storm headed our way next week.  I'll need a distraction.  

But, I do find that I cope better in Monkey Socks...

SA