Doing The Right Thing

After reading about Earth Hour on Geraldine's blog the other day, I felt compelled to turn out the lights.  I like the planet well enough.  You could even say I'm a fan.  Turning out the lights for an hour seemed like the least I could do to say, "Thanks for the gravity and stuff."

So, for an hour last night, the only light at Chez Sheepie was that of the gently flickering candles.  And the TV.  And the computer monitor.  And one time, there was an oven light for a minute.  It was like being a Pilgrim or something...

OK.  So maybe I wasn't entirely clear on the whole point of this exercise.  But baby steps are steps nonetheless, right?  I sat in the dark watching zombie movies, for heaven's sake!  I should get some credit for that!

With less of the light available, I opted to do the responsible thing and not knit on the Invisibility Shawl until artificial illumination was, once again, an option.  After all the difficulties I had with this pattern, it seemed wise to not tempt fate.  So, I waited.

And I was rewarded for my humble attitude towards my skills.  The shawl continued to behave beautifully once I was able to see again and remained a dutiful WIP even into today.  

See?

**Important Warning-Type Statement**  In short order, there will be a number of intrepid and well-meaning individuals who will want to ask if I was using a lifeline.  The management of this blog requests that, for your own safety, you refrain from doing so.  We are not insured for sobbing Sheep roaming the country and toilet-papering the homes of good knitters who ask logical questions.

It was the photography what done me in, I think.  Any time I get a little cocky and say to myself, "hey, the rest of the world needs to see the stunning beauty created by mine own hands," is pretty much when things go completely haywire.  Somewhere along the line, and not too long after this picture was snapped, a stitch, perhaps a yarnover, managed to wander off for greener pastures.  Where it went, I have no clue.  But I do hope that it is happy and remembers me fondly.  I hate to think that its departure was somehow meant to hurt me or that it is out there laughing cruelly over the hour I spent tinking my way back to a place where the stitch count made some sort of sense.  That would hurt.

Hard to believe that, in broad daylight and on a pattern that contains a mere four rows and only two that require any sort of counting, I could make such an error.  But, it's certainly not the first time.  Nor will it be the last.  If I wasn't yelling at my knitting, I don't think the cat would recognize me.  It is sort of comforting in a weird way.  Still, I really should see if I can't avoid further boo-boos.  I need to get this project finished.

Doing the right thing feels good.  You may not always be rewarded for it.  But you have the self-satisfaction of knowing that you are at least trying to make a difference.  You should always do the right thing.  

Which begs the question: Why haven't I put in that lifeline yet?

SA