I didn't finish any knitting project today. I didn't start anything either. Not that either of those actions would be odd.
I had to wait in line for over an hour at DMV for the tags for my truck. Nothing strange there.
All day today I thought it was the first of February and I was driving with "dead" tags. Nothing peculiar there, it happens quite a bit.
I renewed my tags before they were officially dead at midnight tonight. Now that's out of the ordinary.
I consider myself a bit early with my tag renewal. It's usually well after the expiration date that someone notices and reminds me to go to the DMV and fix the expired tag issue. This is usually followed by something along the lines of, "the money will come from your yarn fund, not my golf fund if you get pulled over."
There was a weird comment from Wendy stating I'm to blame for her purchase of the lovely Bolero Jacket pattern and yarn. It was she who forced me to purchase the yarn and pattern. Funny how people remember the same scene entirely different from one another. Like that Million Little Pieces guy saying that is how he remembered the events in his mind. It might not be entirely the truth but it's a version of the truth and it's now what he believes to be the actual truth. (huh?) Here is what happened on Sunday.
After a rather pleasant day of sitting and knitting, the pattern book walked over to the back table, jumped up in front of me and opened itself to the Bolero Jacket. I was drugged and found myself in front of the shelf where beautiful yarn lives and forced by forces unknown to me to look through the selection of colors.
At this point I would have walked back to the table to continue knitting. However, Wendy grabbed me and twisted my arm and it hurt. ALOT. To make her stop I had to agree to buy the yarn and pattern. And to knit the sweater. If anyone was there and saw me go check the overstock yarn it was because Wendy said she'd not sign my copy of Wendy Knits: My Never Ending Adventures in Yarn. It might have appeared I was trying to find out what was in stock on my own free will but that's not the case. She even said she would do everything in her power to make sure I didn't even get a copy of her book if I didn't do as she said. She did, really. I'm going to bring the yarn home with me tomorrow because . . . well because Wendy said I had to!
No, let's not call this story fiction, it's my memoir and I'm sticking to it. Call Oprah, maybe she'll have me on her show and beat the truth out of me.
What DO you do about those single socks? The odd ones. Are they considered WIPs?
I'm unsure why I received curious looks from truck drivers while winding yarn using the gear shift, while sitting in traffic. Is this abnormal to you? Traffic was completely stopped and I had nothing to knit unless I wound some yarn.
Maybe I should start or finish a project tomorrow so I have something to write about. I think I'll start a new project.