I remember a time when I didn't write most of my posts while sitting in airports. But here's another one. I'm in Chicago, waiting for a flight to Boston. From Boston, I go to Reykjavik, Iceland.
I've never been to Iceland; but I hear tell that they sell yarn at the grocery store, so I'm expecting it to be an Earthly Paradise. Albeit a slightly chilly Paradise, which would explain the omnipresence of yarn.
I was packing for the trip when I realized, last night, that I don't have a winter hat for myself. Not one. I've knit tons of them, but they've all gone off into the world on other heads.
It's in such a situation that Knitters and Those Who Do Not Knit part company. Those who knit not would go out and buy a hat. Knitters, or at least this knitter, reach a point where buying a winter hat feels like cheating (at worst) or giving up (at best).
There is simply no way I can show up in Iceland with a four-dollar hat from Target.
So I'm knitting one en route.
I have until I get there to figure out and finish the brim treatment. Ribbing is out. Too pedestrian. This should be a Project Runway challenge: finish your garment by the time the plane lands, or get frostbite.
Off we go.