Reflections on a Vocational Happenstance
I feel rushed this morning, though I am not sure why. By any normal standard -- most notably my own former working-outside-the-home standard-- I have a light schedule today. The most important thing I need to do is move the car from one side of the street to the other to comply with the alternate side parking rule, which takes ten minutes twice. I plan to grocery shop and cook a meal, perhaps do a load of laundry. None of it a big deal, but still I feel rushed, as though the day will whiz by and I will have wasted it.
Perhaps I am anticipating next week, when I will take a solo driving trip to visit friends, feeling antsy in advance. Whatever its cause, this rushed feeling is not useful to me, not conducive to writing. So I think I will take this opportunity to introduce you to someone else's words instead.
Several winters ago, when I decided I wanted to become a better knitter, I read everything I could on the subject of "The Knitting Life". The most humorous of the beautiful writers I discovered is Stephanie Pearl-McPhee, whose writing handle makes me smile just to type it: "Yarn Harlot". Her voice reminds me a bit of Erma Bombeck, and if you don't know who she was, then hold on to your hat because between the two you're in for a lot of chuckling.
Here's a tidbit from Stephanie to whet your appetite:
“Some knitters say that they buy yarn with no project in mind and wait patiently for the yarn to "speak" to them. This reminds me of Michelangelo, who believed that every block of stone he carved had the statue waiting inside and that all he did was reveal it. I think I've had yarn speak to me during the knitting process, and I've definitely spoken to it. Perhaps I'm doing it wrong, or maybe my yarn and I aren't on such good terms, but it really seems to me that all I say is "please" and all it ever says is "no".” ― Stephanie Pearl-McPhee, At Knit's End: Meditations for Women Who Knit Too Much