The Blunted Tongue

Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Push through the carpal tunnel.
My hands hurt. I'm proud about it.

Sean asked my Monday night if I couldn't make a scarf in a week's time. He has a charity auction at work, a hand knit scarf is the kind of thing they want to put up.

I was very excited, spent Monday night rolling a tangly skein of chunky cotton-candy dyed wool into a ball. $28 yarn (price tag still on) I'd taken from the bottom of a trash heap in my mother's craft room.

About the same time Tuesday I realized I was desperately allergic to that yarn and had to start over, and that when Sean said 'week' he meant 'by Thursday night.'

"I'm sorry," he said, "I should have specified 'work week.'"

Now I'm squeezing a tight stringy cotton blend down my needles, stitch at a time. My hands go numb at the end of each row, and I stop, and dangle them at the wrists until the carpal tunnels open again. I can't believe how slow it is.

Sean says it isn't worth it, but oh god it is. He doesn't understand what an honor it was to me, that he is willing to put something I made in front of all his co-workers. To take the leap of faith that someone would bid money for it. That he thought, "we need some nice stuff, my wife can make it." Because...I write well, but the rest of my accomplishments aren't really the kind you brag about at work.

I really don't have time to be writing this. I'm not close to half done.
posted by Willy Sue @ 2:02 PM  
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