Today has been a comedy of errors or close there to. I was late getting out the door to meet a friend in Guildford to take a train to London in order to participate in a charity treasure hunt.
Late because my knitting bag containing Fäfner seemed to have gone astray. Racing upstairs to round up another long standing project, I bailed for the car. Halfway to Guildford I realized that I did not have my handi.
Ok, the train station is not that big, there are not that many tracks and it should not be that hard to find Mary.
(can you tell already that those were famous last words and I had thoroughtly jinxed myself?)
After parking in the garage and jogging to the station I quickly purchased a ticket and bailed for the track since it was 1145 and we had agreed on the 1147 train. Unfortunately, this is a British train station. Inside the station there are no yellow boards with destinations and tracks organized by departure time. There is only the sign on each platform which is not readable except by standing on that platform. Now, if you regularly depart from a station there is not a problem. You know which track. For a strange, this is a real challenge.
I checked 1 & 2 before running up the stairs to check on the other tracks. No signs, no clues. Going back to the first platform, I then trotted through the tunnel to check each platform vaguely remembering taking a train to Waterloo from Platform 3.
No sight of Mary anywhere and disgusted with myself about the phone, I gave up after 30 minutes figuring there are more expensive lessons in life. Driving home, the CD player started disc 5 of The Anansi Boys by Neil Gaimen. If you are not that familiar with the book, this is right at the point where Spider starts completely wrecking Fat Charlie’s life. Some how, it seemed apropos.
My cell phone, sitting smugly on my bedside table had recorded seven missed phone calls and five texts. Mary had been looking for me at the same station, including at the bottom of the stairs to platform 3. Not finding me, she had taken the 1208 to Waterloo. Obviously, there was a good reason I had not seen her for the last portion of my search.
Rather than start to clean the house, I went searching for a puzzle.
There are plenty of stores that are open on Sundays. The store store is not among them. The charity shops are also closed. The only puzzles I found at all were in a discount bookstore. Not wanting 1000 pieces worth of horses running, 18 wheelers or hippopotamuses I dragged my feet back home.
Now, here was where I was going to tell you all about being finished with Faery Ring. Note the was. Rather than have a hem that went all the way around the hood, I decided that I wanted a slighter wider edging, and only on the actual jacket front.
First side went without difficulty, complete with turning row and neat looking bind off on the inside.
Second side? CSI: Season 10 must have gotten in the way because I picked up too many stitches with a resulting difference in both appearance and length of the sides.
Started again, careful to pick up only as many stitches as were needed. Knit the turning row and decided to get a picture for the record, and then one of the bind off.
And I saw this –
Just in case it is not completely obvious, here is a closer look.
Time to go do something else for the remainder of the evening, like burn back up DvDs since I can obviously not be trusted with simple counting, measuring and knitting.