It doesn’t stop here

I was up early, the DH fast asleep. So much so that it was not feasible to wake him for a ride to the train station. Heading down the hill, I managed to catch the 23, then transfered to the 24. Getting off at my normal stop, I finally found the board with the S-Bahn times posted. The 6:05 S-1 from Osterbürken to Homburg does not stop “at all the stations.” You know what is coming, don’t you? I was standing there at a station where it doesn’t stop. Without enough time to catch the next 24 to the main station, I waited for the 6:18. That particular train turns out to be an S2, not an S1. It only goes as far as Kaiserslautern. Once there – it was 30 minutes before any of the departing trains were stopping at Landstuhl.

My plan of getting to work before 0800 was now long sunk, with a hike up the hill still facing me at the end of the connection. Barely making it to the office in time to change for 0900 mandatory training back down the smaller freaking hill at the hospital. And all of this without a cup of coffee.

The way home? Well, the train was delayed in Kaiserslautern, and again in Neustadt when the second train which joins this one was late. A man got on in Ludwigshafen, paint spattered clothing and nicked up hands heading home from a long days work. Dropping his pack with a clink and clunk, he sat next to me with a beer in his hand. Totally fascinated by my knitting, it was running questions till I exited at Heidelberg. What was I making? How did it work? Why was the one section on top with the other section sunk below?

He had learned crochet at school, all those many decades ago. A wash cloth as a matter of fact was his project. One that his mother, now in her 80s still has. Mothers are like that, we keep those gifts our children make. And bright colors? All of his were dark and plain. I left him in thought, contemplating Vampire Red socks in Chicken Wire Fencing while drinking his third beer.


Chicken Wire or Fencing Socks, yes. First sock done, heel turned and grafted (once I got home). I went ahead and started the second sock on the trip since grafting and S-Bahn riding are not a good combination. The first picture, taken outside is closer to the real reds of the yarn than are the other two, taken under artificial light.



The four rows have been frogged and I am joining the facing to the sleeve. Tomorrow I will post the step-by-step.


With hands too sticky to maintain a proper tension, I will finish up the toe decreases tomorrow. Then it is only washing to go.


On this morning’s train I finished up Fresh Disasters, the latest Stone Barrington by Stuart Woods. Plot and subplots were not all that exciting. Your typical hard-boiled PI, all the female characters existed only in flat roles as victims or sex partners for the main character (or both in one case). The dialog was not even up to snuff. Recommend that you give this one a pass.

Dropping it off at the library – Set Sail for Murder by Carolyn Hart and The Refuge by Sue Henry climbed in my back pack. I have started Hell hath no Fury, but it is rough going. I finally figured out that I need to go back and read Hell’s Gate first so that I can understand the multiverse before trying out a sequel, much less figure out the relationships between characters.


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About Holly

fiber person - knitter, spinner, weaver who spent 33 years being a military officer to fund the above. And home. And family. Sewing and quilting projects are also in the stash. After living again in Heidelberg after retiring (finally) from the U.S. Army May 2011, we moved to the US ~ Dec 2015. Something about being over 65 and access to health care. It also might have had to do with finding a buyer for our house. Allegedly this will provide me a home base in the same country as our four adult children, all of whom I adore, so that I can drive them totally insane. Considerations of time to knit down the stash…(right, and if you believe that…) and spin and .... There is now actually enough time to do a bit of consulting, editing. Even more amazing - we have only one household again. As long as everyone understands that I still, 40 years into our marriage, don't do kitchens or bathrooms. For that matter, not being a golden retriever, I don't do slippers or newspapers either. I don’t miss either the military or full-time clinical practice. Limiting my public health/travel med/consulting and lecturing to “when I feel like it” has let me happily spend my pension cruising, stash enhancing (oops), arguing with the DH about where we are going to travel next and book buying. Life is good!
This entry was posted in Books & Tapes, Knitting, socks, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to It doesn’t stop here

  1. Marit says:

    your sockapaloozas are just beautiful!

  2. gail says:

    The man on the train had a level of curiosity and persistence I associate with children! Maybe it was the beer.

    I had heard that girls used to be taught knitting in school, didn’t know they were still taught it and the boys too.

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