Risky Bisque-ness, Tight-Pants-Whistle-Dance, and a New Sweater

I spent my holiday vacation chasing after an abandoned sweater and then clinging to it with all my might, just in case it decided to vanish again. After it was recovered, it needed a bit of ribbing on one sleeve, the button band, and the buttonhole band. I jealously protected the sweater until Rachael suggested we meet up at Dash-In with Diana. I bundled it into the England sweater pouch and zipped it up. Then, we left for Fort Wayne.

At this point, I decided that a photographic trail of bread crumbs might help me locate my knitting if it were lost again. So this happened.

5:25 PM: Knitting leaves with Rachael and Laura for evening out.

6:12 PM: Knitting arrives in Fort Wayne.

6:19 PM: Knitting arrives at Dash-In, meets up with Diana.

Dash-In makes the world's best grilled cheese sandwiches. They are the reason I need a panini press. Grilled cheese is nothing without tomato soup, and they make an amazing tomato bisque, too.

Of course, Diana has trouble with dairy. I have a tomato "intolerance" which is a nice way of saying that tomatoes decided a while ago to torment me by being both delicious and somewhat deadly to my digestive system. Screw the tomato intolerance, I am eating my tomato soup, come what may.

I call this risky bisque-ness.

7:00 PM: Knitting has tomato bisque and epic grilled cheese sandwich.

My back was to the bathroom, and I wish it hadn't been, because the bathroom was an ongoing comedy routine I was sad to miss. I mean, this one guy went in, did not lock the door, and then another guy opened it and walked in on the first guy. That happened in the first five minutes we were there. *  

Then, after we got our food, a man in a flannel shirt came whistling through the restaurant, then continued whistling in the bathroom. We pondered whether he was a hipster or a lumberjack. Apparently, the determining factor is pant-tightness. Flannel shirt +  Loose pants = lumberjack. Flannel shirt + Tight pants = hipster.

The hipster-lumberjack continued whistling his song inside the bathroom. 

We wondered why he was still whistling. Maybe he needed to whistle to get things going, due to urination anxiety. Maybe he liked the bizarre pseudo-goth music playing on Dash's sound-system. Maybe he just liked to whistle. Maybe he was also dancing. He came out of the bathroom and we determined he was indeed a hipster, doing a tight-pants-whistle-dance in the only room Dash-In has with acoustics good enough for his performance. Acoustics matter.

8:43 PM: Knitting crawls back into bag to head home.

8:45 PM: Knitting walks out the door with Laura, who clutches at it with white-knuckles.

10:54 PM: Knitting enjoys Gilmore Girls before bed.

Meanwhile, I decided that the reason my sweater was abandoned in the first place was that my purse was not big enough to contain knitting. The way to solve this problem is to get a GIANT knitting bag that, if necessary, I could live inside. When I'm taking my knitting somewhere, I'll move my wallet over to the knitting bag and it will act as a purse. 

I think this is a genius plan and it will be carried out as soon as I find a knitting bag I fancy.

I spent the remaining part of the week knitting and blocking and seaming, until I ended up with a completed sweater. I found buttons at JoAnn's on Monday, attached them, and then rocked my new blue sweater as often as possible after that at Christmas celebration-y events.

Knitting, finished, is hereafter referred to as "blue sweater."

Merry Belated Christmas and a Happy New (Sweater) Year to all of you!

* This reminded me of the busy Black Friday, many moons ago (I think I was 12 or so), when some guy ran into the Target women's room without realizing it, desperately slammed open a (locked) stall door and then saw me in there. In a raw panic, he shouted, "I'M SO SORRY. I'M SO SORRY. PLEASE, DON'T TELL ANYONE!" And then he ran back outside, past the women washing their hands at the sink who had all seen everything. We all then laughed at him for a very long time. Including now. 

He didn't wait long enough to hear me say I was totally going to tell EVERYONE.