028. Walking in the Air.


Does anyone else remember Maniac Magee?

I have found myself incredibly soothed by the process of unraveling the snarrliest knots. Serious zen – I don’t use any logic, just pull whatever slipknots I find, loosen, thread, and play around with the mess. I’m actually pretty good at it.

For an early gift, my dad brought me some really nice yarn (to quote the label, “baby alpaca chunky”) to play with as I start knitting again. I was thrilled. The issue was that I’m also an idiot who has never worked with skeins, and managed to make a horrible knotty mess of the think by the time I attempted to find the ends.

I was in heaven. Slowly dangling the wonderfully soft yarn, balling it up and enjoying the mindlessness of the task. I was at work without anything to do. A common dilemma. The only calls were about a piano tuner and cancellations. This meant mindlessness was not only a good idea; it saved me from staring at the clock for four hours, bored to tears and pondering mischief.

As I worked on a particularly twisted section, I found myself saying something under my breath. Pause. Wait, what? What had I been saying? ‘something, something, ‘s so cool, something, something, kissed a bull’. Puzzled, I continued working on the knot. From experience, I knew that I’d either google that partial quote and lose the rest, or let it come and possibly be enlightened. Sure enough, around twenty minutes later I remembered Cobble’s Knot and the Jerry Spinelli book I had read as a kid.

I felt awesome for an hour or so. Then the damn jump-rope rhyme stuck in my head and all I can image are the sounds of sneaker-clad feet jumping in time to the crack-thud of an experienced jump rope whipper, childish voices shouting the last word.

I’m not done with the snarled yarn either. Or Gatsby. Or American History Unit Thing. And it’s 1:21. Boo.


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