An O'Hare-y Day
Sitting in the airport and feeling thankful for knitting, and Chris, but not in that order.
We are stuck in the airport. Our first flight was grounded in the previous airport, so we've also missed the connecting flight to London. Sigh.
We are booked on the next flight from here, and are supposed to be in London one hour late. Too late for mattins at St. Paul's.
Good thing I have beautiful blue Colinette jitterbug yarn, the color of my hair. The pattern I am travelling with is for socks, but I realized, I forgot mitts, so I have cast some on, while having a lovely chat with a knitter from Vermont. Chris has a little light reading -- Bede's. The Ecclesiastical History of the English People (Oxford edition). I am also perusing Wilkie Collins The Woman in White. Craftlit has been readimg it for quite sometime, and I'm going crazy by being kept to their reading schedule. I don't like to take my time with books, and, I guess I don't like to take my time with books being read aloud.
One other thing: knitting with Bry-Flex knitting needles is like knitting with a fish. Not even a lovely little Swedish fish, that has the redeeming quality of being edible, but a horrible, Billy-bob singing fish with either the batteries dead, or the batteries never-dying (whichever is the greTer horror for you). They are plastic toothpicks, too blunt for getting that annoying piece of steak from between your teeth; or like knitting with coffee stir sticks and dental floss, but without the thrill you receive by being so clever as to think of doing that after your knitting needles are seized on an Italian flight. Basically, these knitting needles suck.