One Thing Leads to Another

Saturday afternoon I gratefully wove in the end of the second of these two pairs of slippers.

As much as I love the slippers themselves--I wear mine all the time--I have made so many pairs in the last couple of years that I no longer enjoy making them. As I was knitting stitch after tedious stitch every fibre of my being was silently screaming, “I want to be knitting something else. Anything else.” But my sister-in-law has worn her old ones to threads and my sister asked me to knit a pair for her daughter-in-law--how could I not make them when they are so appreciated?

I wound up the remaining yarn and went to cram it in the bag with the other leftovers. As I did so, I thought I really should sort out all the worsted-weight, feltable wool and put it in one place. Before I knew it I was sorting and rewinding my entire collection of leftover yarn—enough to fill an under-the-bed storage bin plus about four large shopping bags. I had done most of it by the time I went to bed but it still took me to almost lunchtime yesterday to completely finish. I am keeping all of my feltable wool and sock yarn (Jessica and I have plans to knit an afghan a la The Heathen Housewife), plus a few other yarns that may come in handy. I will give my mom first dibs on everything else (she makes scrap afghans for seniors) and donate whatever she doesn’t want. This is a job that was long overdue and it feels very good to have rid myself of all that clutter.

Yesterday afternoon I had an appointment to get my hair trimmed and my roots touched up before Christmas. My hair is thick and curly and I usually wear it fairly short but earlier this year I decided to grow it out and try a longer style. I am finally past the worst stage but there is still a ways to go--some days I just want to hack it all off again. After my hair was cut and coloured my hairdresser asked me if I wanted to have it straightened, just for fun. Now, I have never seen myself with straight hair--when I was younger my hair was just wavy but as I’ve gotten older it’s become curlier and curlier. So I figured, why not?

I couldn’t stop grinning as she ran the straightening iron through it—it just didn’t look like me. It didn’t feel like me either, so light and thin.

I felt like an imposter as I walked in the door, expecting my family to ask, “Where is Carol and what have you done with her?” It was so funny to see their reactions—Jessica raved about it and the boys immediately whipped out their phones to take pictures but I don’t think Cameron knew quite what to think.

My hair was even straighter when I woke up this morning, minus the little flip at the ends, but still looked presentable so I decided to enjoy my new look for one more day. I know the real me will return as soon as the shower hits my hair tomorrow morning but it’s been fun to pretend to be somebody else, if only for a day or two.