I had a frizzy fuzzy scarf last winter that I really loved – lots of shades of many greens. I found it in a feed store, where I was buying ingestibles for the birds, deer, squirrels, chipmunks, etc, etc, etc. The proprietor would knit in between customers on the long winter afternoons. I loved it, so I bought it. I could just drape it over any coat and take off. Then it disappeared – no idea where or when.
I’ve been resigning myself to not having it this winter – and I do have lots of other wonderful scarves. But I especially liked its bright fluffy perkiness – and it went with everything.
So last Saturday as Francine and I were setting up at the Vinoklet Winery Festival to do readings, I looked sideways at the folks in the booth next to us. Excellent woodcuts and paintings on display, and a woman knitting – nearly the same yarn as the one I’ve been missing!
Took me about an hour, getting comfortable, having conversations – to ask if the scarf was being made for anyone in particular. ‘No, I just like to knit.’ So when it was done later that afternoon, it came home with me.
Now what are the odds of that happening? Of course, I count on and live my life by those little miracles!