Darn it.

No, not socks, just time and life and all the things that get in the way of ones knitting.  (Most people would say that knitting gets in the way of life, but you an I know that knitting is life)  The sweater is not blocked, and the ends are not worked in and I am more than a little fed up with myself.  

What is the point of making a plan if I so blithely disregard it?  But I had many other things to do.   After a call to the shipping people, I found I could not reliably count on food products to get in to Ukraine, so I had to go replace the somethings with other things.  I spent the entire afternoon gallivanting around the city.  When I got home, I organized the packing, collected some photos, and knit a very wee bit.  

And then I picked up the Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society.  I think it is even sweeter the second time around. This time I am seeing beyond the story to really hearing what they say about the writers.  I have this overwhelming urge to read Charles Lamb and Seneca and I feel more than a little bereft that we don't write letters like that anymore.  

We write emails for things like this and I don't know that anyone would think of taking a collection of emails and putting them in a virtual book.  They are such mundane little things, the bits and pieces we toss back and forth, but the quick conversations between Sidney and Juliet and she and Dawsey which are the real illumination.  

Somehow it is these small things, these mundane things that ring true.  It the small day to day acts that mean the most, that give the form and substance to the lives lived in this book. Perhaps that is why this book resonates so.  It is a mirror to a real life, it feels as if these folks live.  They are fictional characters but they come to life when you read this book.   Sigh.

I am going to get in some knitting time today.  This evening, I hope to knit at least several rounds on this new sweater, and I hope to find a few minutes to finish up the blue one.  Won't take long.  Just needs doing.