I know. It’s gross. You should see my leg; it isn’t any prettier. In an energetic burst of long-weekend-joy, I hit the trails for a mountain run Saturday morning and managed to trip on pretty much the very last rock before reaching the parking lot. I slid. On my hands. And one leg.
As you can imagine, this did not make me feel very good. Or very graceful.
It did elicit a rather Sarah Silverman-inspired tirade of tears and curses.
But of course, what can you do? Sit in a cloud of desert dirt and cry the long weekend away? No. That would be silly. So, I showered, hit the bagel shop and regrouped with carbs. My previously planned day of sewing and gardening had to be scrapped. My hand wasn’t going to participate.
So, I hit the mailbox instead, picked up the latest Netflix correspondence and plopped on the couch ready to spend a Saturday entirely wrapped up in a sullen, woe-is-me, mood.
This didn’t last through the previews. I simply don’t do pathetic. Instead, I remembered that giant tin of tangled yarn and half-completed knitting projects in my bedroom. A few minutes later, I had things sorted.
I also went through a stack of books to find a new project. I needed something simple, easy, mindless and fun.
Viola — a knit baby cap. I’ve got enough kitchen cotton to whip up a half dozen of these. I plan on pairing them with an adorable hooded baby towel. How cute is this tutorial? (Thanks Zarah for the lead!)
My hand is quickly getting better. My grace? Well, that’s a far different story. Thankfully, my mule-like stubbornness keeps me going. I’ll be back on the trails tomorrow.
For those in the US, and soldiers everywhere, thank you. You work is not without incredible sacrifice. Thank you for protecting goof balls like me. And to the many military families, I am so very grateful for your incredible patriotism. May God keep all of your loved ones safe. (And may peace abound!)