Let The Good In, And The Bad Shall Follow
It is now 8:45 in the morning, and already, the sun has turned the dreary town of Winchester, California, into a giant oven. The sun reflects itself in each window, creating a light that is beyond blinding. As I was getting dressed this morning, I put on the lightest of light-weight shirts, and a pair of shorts. Even that seems like too much. I swear, it is days like today, where I wish that Winchester was a nudist town. Even what I have on, is killing me.
I now feel a big thank you is in order, to all my readers, who showed me just how silly it would have been, to work on a throw, in the middle of Summer. God, what was I thinking? (I have been off the pain medication for about 5 and a half months. Do you think I can still blame the side effects of Norco for my impaired judgement? Oh well, even if my medicated stupidity is long gone, I can claim it in the case of wanting to make a blanket, in the heat of Summer...so there!)
Anyway...
Yesterday, after completing a granny square, I went out, with my mother, into the heat of hell. One of our stops was a thrift store. I always have loved thrift stores. They are like the modern-day equivalent of a treasure chest. Sure, there may be those moments when ABSOLUTELY nothing is found. But, there are also those moments when the reward is great. You find the treasures that make you want to jump u[p and down. You snag them up, and consider yourself lucky.
Yesterday, I found gold. Or, at least, the 'yarnie's' equivalent of gold.
Four brand-new skeins of yarn. Red, black, purple, and peach. And, the best part. Together, these FOUR skeins cost a grand total of two bucks. That is cheaper than one skein, at JoAnn's. I figured I could use this yarn, to make my bright granny squares.
There was an elderly lady staring at me, as I held these skeins. It was a harsh stare. A stare that clearly stated: "Drop the DAMNED skeins!" Well, sorry, granny! These are mine! I found them, fair and square. Better luck next time. As I walked away, her 'stare of DEATH' followed me. I could feel her gaze on me, even when I could no longer physically see her. To tell you the truth, it was kind of creepy. Behind her bi-focals, there eyes that were sharp as tacks.I bought the skeins, got the hell out of the store, and drove far away from the evil eyes of the elderly lady.
A few more stops were on the agenda, before returning home.
When we got home, it was time. I knew what I had to do. I had to finish the bag. So, I sat, directly in front of a fan, and I worked away. The yarn was blowing every which way, which, FYI, is a pain in the ass. I would get two strands of yarn on my hook, and, right before pulling my hook through a loop, the fan would send the two strands of yarn flying off. "Stupid (Insert "F" word, here) FAN!" This three word statement left my mouth, every time my lips parted. It was hell. COMPLETE HELL! I had to finish the bag. There was no question of that. And, I had to sit by the fan. Even one more inch further away from it, and I would have ROASTED! But the yarn and the fan just REFUSED to get along.
Finally, after working, three times longer than I should have had to, the bag was DONE! My first project, worked from a pattern...COMPLETE! A sense of satisfaction rolled over me, and, I decided, a 'celebratory beer' was called for.
My mother had decided, after seeing the bag, in the pattern, that, once finished, this bag should be hers. She told me she would love to use it on the cruise. Fine. So, after taking the photo of it, I handed it to her.
After giving her the bag, I asked her if she would be able to hand me a beer. My foot was absolutely KILLING me, and she was already up. She took one look at the single beer can on the coffee table, and then, went into to a "mode." She started in on how I need to clean up when I am done. How all I do is just sit around, doing NOTHNG! (Are you FRIGGIN kidding me.)
"Screw it!:" I told her. "I don't want the beer, anymore." With that, I grabbed my beer can off the coffee table, as I was already planning on doing, and I took it to the trash.
Part of me was so pissed! I just finished my first project...a bag, which I gave to her. I should been able to have joy in that. Yet, all I could think of was how I so wanted to reclaim the bag, and just unravel it, right in front of her. I was STEAMING, as I grabbed my craft bag, off the couch, and stormed to my room. I was so angry that I didn't do a single stitch on the shawl, last night...the first night I have not worked on it. Last night, part of me really wondered if I should even finish the shawl. I could feel the sting of her words, as I closed my eyes.
This morning, as I awoke, the injury of her words had subsided.
Well, time to go. I have a granny square to make. Then...well, I am really not sure. I mean, next Tuesday, I am going back up to Paso Robles (God help me. It will be HOT as anything, there!) And, when I go, I will take take yarn for granny squares, and the shawl. I will not take a project from my book with me (as that would mean taking more yarn than luggage.) So, do I really want to start a project now, that I will not be able to finish, until I come back from Paso Robles?
Who knows...I may start a project. Or, I may just spend my day, working wonderful granny squares. Either way...
Happy crocheting!