I know I’m not the only person in the world plagued by dreams of test-taking in my underwear. Even so, it’s unsettling to have this kind of dream, especially over and over. What strikes me, aside from the detail and realism of the dreams, is how arbitrary it all feels. There are several Tectonic shifts in life, but what fascinates me is that anxiety seems to come after the big decisions are made, when there is little left to be anxious about. When The Baron bought his house, for example: he decided he was going to buy a house, he did all the legwork, and then spent six months looking at properties. By the time the nervousness hit, the shift was mostly over. The only thing left was that final leap, that split second when both your feet are off the ground. Sure, you can be nerve-wracked about the leap, but it’s both soothing and terrifying to remember that the bulk of the change happened before it occurred to you to be nervous.
There’s the rub, of course, because by the time you get to a crossroads, no matter which path you take, you’re forced to acknowledge you’ve come a long way from “home.”
This is how knitting crept up on me. Before I knew it was a “thing,” I’d already given my heart away, invested in needles and yarn, and was knitting and purling my fingers to the quick.
And finally, for the crossworders out there, from my wonderful roommate, the mom of Fenster and a writer extraordinaire:
Reason for being late starting with k: killed
(it’s subtle . . . wait for it . . . wait for it . . . there . . . punny goodness)