Reading the paper. (Why do I find this sooooo hilarious?)
Colouring on the windows.
Reading Mr. Men books in a living room tent. I think he's doing research.
Such a great weekend.
As you can see from my last post, I'm thinking about water lately. I started thinking about it again this morning as the dishwasher and washing machine hummed away. Then, my husband went upstairs for a shower. And none of this is acutally water we drink.
I was living in Kincardine at the time of the Walkerton Water Crisis. That was a dramatic reminder of how precious safe drinking water is to society. I had returned from Nepal the year before, a place where you can't open your mouth in the shower without suffering unspeakable gastro-intestinal issues. Suddenly, the drinking water in our little rural area was deadly all because of carelessness, pollution, and privatisation of water testing.
Shari and I had an official knitting lesson from Jackie last week. I opted for a project that doesn't require a pair. That way, once I finish making my hat, it's finished. I don't have to start all over and that simply increases the chances that I'll complete it.
There's something to this knitting thing. I know why Jackie "gets her knit on" during times of stress and why Ruthie has been encouraging me for years. One can chat while knitting (unlike the anti-social hobby of writing or reading) and at the same time, produce a home-made item that's good for the soul. So, rather than sit around with friends and talk about our worries/fears/problems, we kind of work them away. We might talk about the dark side but our hands are busy so somehow it's cleansing. I find that, at the end of the day during this long and emotional week, knitting gives me solace.
Writing gives me escape.
Knitting grounds me.
But I never expected my little knitting project to be so coveted. That's why the photo above shows my knitting laying on the floor. It's not because I'm a slob who just tosses things onto the floor--don't worry, mom. It's because my cat finds it no matter where I put it. It's because my three year old likes to "twirl it so fast." I have to hide my knitting and I can't knit in front of child or feline. Strange. I always pictured myself by the fire knitting while my cat slept beside me and my child read on the floor. Instead, it's like I'm defending the Holy Grail from falling into the wrong hands.
I think Mike is after my knitting as we speak. What diabolical dead is he planning?
Better go.
