Routine Or Something Like It

Let's see.  Where were we?  When last we left our intrepid Sheepie, she was buried under over a foot of snow and reveling in the end of the first snow day of the school year.  She was also medicating herself with a vast array of OTC pain relievers because the mean plow guy buried her car without so much as a fare-thee-well.

The storm was a doozy while it lasted, but wrapped up fairly quickly. Then it was back to the routine, if only for a couple of days.  I tried to keep a stiff upper lip about it.  It is poor form to complain about going back to school after a bonus day off and a recent lengthy holiday vacation.

But I really wanted to spend some time at home.  I wanted to finish a sock.

I've suffered some sock loss lately.  I had some critter damage the summer before last and, while I don't welcome the moths with open arms, I do consider them the cost of doing business.  At least if your business is fiddling about with wool.  It's going to happen.  I don't race about like a madwoman or anything. There is no wailing nor rending of garments.  When I see damage, I salvage what I can and try to be good natured about the losses.

Then there was general wear and tear, not to mention the fact that kitties often enjoy napping in laundry baskets.  The act of stomping the dirty clothing around until it is "just right" sometimes involves a claw or two.  That can be rough on socks, I think.

There was also a bit of knitting avoidance for a while there so I sort of found myself getting low on socks.  However, a gigantic pile of snow landing on your doorstep can go a long way towards inspiring a knitter.  The sock-in-progress (the second of the pair) was quickly brought out of hibernation and worked frantically all throughout the snow day.

I didn't make it to the finish line, though.  Not even close.  So, as much as I hate being the kind of person who complains about having to work even if I haven't worked all that much, I really resented the time spent teaching.  I should have been knitting.

I knit all weekend.  With great gusto.  I turned a heel, I gusseted...my fingers flew.  And, tonight, I realized that I wasn't going to make it.  I'd done all I could.  But it wasn't going to be enough.  I would enter into the new work week sans new socks.  This made me sad.  But, what else could I do?  It's not like a person can magically get another day off.  I don't control time.  I can't make the hours slow down or speed up to suit my footwear needs.  I'd just have to accept it.  Maybe there would be time to finish Mr. Sock during TV time on Monday night.

Then I realized something.  Something wonderful.  Something I probably don't even have the right to feel good about considering the amount of time I've had off lately.

Tomorrow is a holiday.  It's a three day weekend.  I don't have to go to work.  I can stay home.  I can finish my sock!  

And, if the weather reports are any indication, I'm probably going to need it by midweek...


SA