Hello, friends. I'm back from a lovely and restful vacation. We spent a couple of…
I’ve never considered myself to be a fast knitter. I actually think my time is rather average – faster than some but slower than some, too. And yet, with the pressure of Sock Madness, I managed to knit a sock in a day on Saturday.
That, my friends, is a new record for me.
And I woke up Sunday morning and thought: my progress is good. I may not be loving the pressure of knit, knit, knit, but I’m making progress and I’ll get most of sock two, it not all of sock two, done by the end of the day. I was hedging my bets because I knew, what with church in the morning and our kids coming over in the afternoon, that I wouldn’t have unlimited knitting time, but I still thought I’d have decent knitting time. And I still believed that it was a priority.
progress as of Sunday night
And then our kids (meaning my stepson Brant, his wife Heather, and my step granddaughter Ambrynn) came over and dropped a bombshell. They’re moving to Florida in July. We’re in Massachusetts, in case you aren’t following this geographically.
That’s damned far away form Massachusetts. I get the reasons for the move, I really do. Massachusetts is expensive, they aren’t getting ahead, they can’t afford a house, Brant would have to work two jobs and he’d never see Ambrynn, Heather’s mom and brother are in Florida. I get all of that, I really do.
And you know, you want your kids to be independent and self-sufficient. That’s sort of the whole point, isn’t it? You raise them to go out in the world and make a good life. This is what Brant and Heather believe is best for their family and it’s exciting for them. But for Dale and I, it’s just so sad. We managed to hold it together while they were here, putting on a brave face for their sake and self-medicating with a martini or two. And then we went to bed and cried together and felt miserable. We also realized that this is something new for us to face. A challenge of a new sort for our marriage, learning to miss such close members of our family. I know we’ll figure it out and I know there are worse tragedies in life but I just keep coming back to this photo and thinking how precious few of these we’ll be taking in the coming years.
Suddenly, competitive sock knitting just doesn’t seem that important anymore.