Charlie loves to be outside so I have a long line where he can run without me worrying he’ll wander off. Most of the time he’s content to destroy play with toys or sticks or exploring around. However, I do seem to be summoned on a somewhat regular basis to free him from the tree at one end of the line or the doorstep at the other. The tree is easy: he walks around one way and can’t figure out to turn around and go back. However, I’m usually perplexed at just how he gets himself as tangled as he does around the doorstep. Take yesterday for instance:
My knitting projects often remind me of the time during which they were knit; they are a measure of where I was and what was happening. This weekend is a good example of that.
On Saturday when I left on the ferry I threw my just started second sock for my nephew’s Christmas gift (I’m so trying to do better this year) in my purse. We were off to his fourth birthday party: my mother, my sister, and I with 6 kids between 4-8. Living on the island, this was set to be a 12 hour adventure. Realistically, knitting time was going to be at a minimum with this crew, but once we got to my sister’s, the kids went outside to play; the adults had coffee and I started picking away at the ribbing.