Vanishing Point. Or: Diary of a dare-devil knitter moving about all over the place. Or: If it's Friday, it must be Pago-Pago.
Like Gwen, I had vanished momentarily.
And like Dorothy when she wakes up after the tornado, I'm feeling a tad discombobulated. But I'm still waiting for the reassuring face of Aunty Em to materialise.
We have had Scarecrow, Tin Man and Lion through here lately in the form of Pest Exterminator, Removalist and Gas Man however.
Yes, we've moved.
Alas, not to anything we've purchased, but in fact to new rental accomodation while we look to buy at a more prudent pace rather than the insane breakneck one we were forced into a little while ago.
Which does mean we have to go through this craziness again in 6 months.
Where was I before all this craziness began?.....
[ everyone make wibbly wobbly movements with your arms now to denote flashback ]
Oh yeah...
So there I was heading down to Melbourne for the 3rd and final time last Thursday and I thought what the hell, this time I'm going to sneak my knitting into my carry-on luggage.
The bag goes through the xray.
I go through security.
No heavily balaclava-ed and armed task force descends on me demanding immediate handover of 5 suspicious small pointy things.
Looks like I'm in the clear!
Onboard, we take off and I take out my almost finished sock, carefully arranging the dpns and the yarn in my lap, outwardly acting all laissez faire, like I do this every day doncha know! But inwardly expecting the Virgin staff to dash up the aisle, confiscate my sock and leave me with no backup plan.
Nope, that doesn't happen either.
Rather, the gent seated a couple of seats away from me asks me what I'm knitting, who I'm knitting if for etc.
"Red socks" ?! His eyebrows raise as if the very idea were outrageous.
He then proceeds to tell me an anecdote about when he was working in France and there were advertising billboards everywhere saying something like " A leur coeur avec tricot". exhorting knitters to win friends and influence people through knitting for them. All in all a pleasant experience.
Outlook from hotel room? You could say it's less than cheery.
But after a fortifying mozzarella and granita at good ol' Pellegrinis where the guys who've been there since...what..1962? still call everyone bella and bello, I head off to tech. rehearsal.
Cut to 1.30am next morning. The Russian cab driver with a strong line in black humour taking me back to my hotel is listening to Radio National. Instantly I like him. The news of Willie Brigitte comes on. There's a short pause and then the driver observes that if he'd been detained under said conditions he would have confessed to not only "planning terrorism", but also JFK, Pearl Harbour and Archduke Franz Ferdinand ...you name it. By the end of the trip through the dark and empty city we'd had quite a lengthy philosophic discourse on the nature of modern democracy.
By now it's around 2 am and I really want to unwind with sewing up my sock, coz I am just so rock n roll.
But wait...what is this weirdness just past the heel turn?
What is that? Some weird dropped stitch about 50 rows ago that doesn't join up to the top?
Oh bugger.
So I unwound with winding up my ripping instead.
Aussie knitters, you'll be pleased to know that I am here to officially report that Qantas, like Virgin, also didn't bat an eye when I took out my knitting on the return trip..perhaps things have sufficiently relaxed to the point where airlines no longer believe they are in mortal peril from a woman weilding a bamboo dpn.
Flash forward [more wibbly wobblies here] to Sydney a week later and we're in our funny cramped new house. The flu virus that was hanging around in the background ever since my second trip to Melbourne but I told myself I wasn't going to get? Finally succumbed. Blergh. But at least as of today I've managed to reconnect the washing machine, the gas and the broadband...yes we have re-joined the developed world at last!
Epilogue:
The second sock?
Yes it's finished and still waiting to have its toe grafted up...now if only I knew where I packed it....
posted by Carson at 1:11 pm
10 Comments:
I've been patiently checking in daily with bated breath, and am glad I can finally exhale. Nice to have you back.
Oh! Oh! Not only did you use one of my favorite words (discombobulated), but you alude to one of my favorite movies (Robbie the Reindeer and its wibbly wobbly bits), you give me hope that I too can knit on board a plane in the near future(maybe we should set up protests at airports round the country by all trying to get through security at a certain predetemined time with knitting needles in our bags then all sit round airside knitting furiously?)and, lastly, you too have had to do some frogging recently (note: don't try fairisle when you are sick in bed. Brain won't cope too well)
I should have been as brave as you this week. I'm on a business trip in Belfast, Northern Ireland, and alas, with no knitting. I just wasn't willing to risk my favourite bamboo DPNs to the wrath of the UK airport security. They're almost as paranoid as the Americans, and there goes 8 hours of perfectly good knitting time.
Hope you get better soon. The flu is a real pain in the ass.
Nice to see you back, and I wish you a more pleasant time than you've had as of late. :)
I must add: where you describe in this post your experience of knitting on the plane--pretending to be so blase about it but in actuality feeling really nervous and on edge about it--this is my exact experience *everytime* I knit in public, esp. on the plane. I'm always sure that I'm going to be dragged away, down the aisle, yarn unravelling, face burning with shame. But so far, I've never had any problems with it (except for, like you, not realizing I've made a serious error which probably occurs because I'm feeling so self-conscious while knitting on the plane that I just can't really concentrate or relax).
Hope you are able to settle in (as much as you can) into your new temporary abode...
Ah you just live on the edge when you knit red socks. :))
So I guess you wont be needing the gym work out bench bed then.
Congrats on the move, surviving air travel and finishing your pair of red socks. Didn't not having internet service feel like the Stone Age? Good to have you back!
Blech, flu is the worst. Feel better soon.
P.S. Thanks for all your sweet comments about my CPH. Yeah, I have total ribbing anxiety on the d*mn thing....
Argh...to bad about the hole. But now you have more plane knitting. I'm glad you were able to take the knitting with you this time.
I felt the same way knitting on the plane in the US (where you are actually allowed to take knitting needles on the plane - still cannot believe Australia is "more" security conscious than the US in this respect!). Hope you are feeling better soon.
Lately I've been ripping as much as knitting, too. Thing is, I have found, that the ripping--as long as you pick it back up and finish the project--makes it worth all the frustration.
And do you wanna know something else? I know someone who knits a project and rips and re-knits just because she loves to "knit" so much.
There's food for thought, there.
I think you're living on the edge taking it on board and actually knitting there! Well done- it does give one hope- they are a very special pair of socks.
I have smuggled knitting on board once (bamboo DPN's only, tucked into my toiletry bag on an overnight work trip) but I was too wary to pull it out en route.
Mind you, I have also had a blunt ended thick wire pin (actually a stitch holder I bought from Wool Baa) barred from accompanying me and my cardigan (which it held pinned closed) onto the plane in Canberra. I had to post it back to myself. This despite the fact I'd worn it on the flight to Canberra with the same airline in the morning..
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