For Crying Out Loud

So what leads to this entry? Well, I thought I was losing my mind. I have a cute tin that Rachael had given me with some soap in it years ago. I used the soap and filled the tin with my knitting tools: folding scissors, needle caps, measuring tape, stitch markers. I use it all the time. I can not knit without it. Well, I can, but I run into problems, like nothing to cut my yarn with or knitting, knitting, knitting and not knowing when to stop.

I was knitting last week on my purple top. (Purple is my new color. I have been attracted to it for a while and now knowing that it is the color of the ribbon for pancreatic cancer cements the attraction.) I had gotten to the point where I needed to measure to see when to stop . . . and I couldn't find my little tool kit! Anywhere! It was so frustrating.

I looked everywhere. In all my knitting bags (by the sofa -- four), under the sofa, under the sofa cushions, on the coffee table, because I remembered that that was the last place I had used it. Nowhere! Daddy looked -- in all the same places, just to be sure. We even checked the dining room and the mantelpiece. Nothing.

Then I was on the phone with Mensch last night, and he started to talk about a knitting gift and I heard Kristen say, in the background, 'bag' and then I remembered! I had put the little tool tin in yet another knitting bag (which was not in the living room) to take to Barb TQ's to work on my knit pancreas! It was there, lost no longer. But . . .

I couldn't find my glasses. Yes, the ones that hang on a chain around my neck, those. Well, the good news is, I found those this morning. So I can see and I can knit and I can see to knit. Chemo brain is conquered! For now.