I got so close – so magically close. I finished the first January sock but left the toe un-grafted, in case I decided to pull out the toe and do it in another color. Then I knit the second from the other end of the ball. As a result, as I ran out of yarn, I have two nearly-complete socks, tethered by their working yarn like feuding twins playing tug-of-war with their umbilical cords. This humors me.

The picture below shows how close I got – I’m literally halfway through the first toe row on the second sock.

I had a few long talks with myself about these socks. These were talks about perspective. They’re socks. It’s knitting. No one will die or starve or be maimed if I don’t meet my goal of finishing these socks tomorrow. Maybe I should really just chill out, as there’s nothing I can do about it anyway. Really, there are more important things to think about, and I should take this as an opportunity to strengthen my character. Or at least get a little bit of a grip.

Then, on the 27th, I got a ravelry message from a beatified woman named Arlene. She was responding to the very last of the dozen or so ravelry messages I’d sent out to knitters with partial balls of this yarn in their stash – begging and pleading, offering portions of limbs if they would send me a bit of it. I’d gotten replies, but they were all in the negative until I heard from Arlene. She’s selling me a precious half-skein she got in a kit that she was saving for a project. And get this –

There’s a good chance it will get here tomorrow. According to USPS tracking, (only a fellow knitter would understand the urgency of the situation well enough to ship right away and send me the tracking number!) my yarn is in Warrendale, PA right this moment.

All sanity and restraint is right out the window. I have a metric ton of reading to do before the morning, but I am trying to work out whether I can justify driving to Warrendale (I looked it up, it’s only a half hour away) and breaking into their facility to get it. But that would probably constitute fraud, and I doubt I could find it. The postman usually gets here around lunchtime. I will be waiting by the window.

I might be a little late for my afternoon class tomorrow.

One thought on “Tracking

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