At any rate, I left the compound at about 8:15 – five minutes after the local authorities closed the only bridge to the main road I need to take to get home. Four cars had skidded into the guardrail, a testament to the dangerous road conditions, and a salt truck was “on the way.”
I finally started for home at 10:05. That, my friends, is one hour and 50 minutes of knitting time. If one had had one’s knitting. Triplet Sweater #3, however, was sitting beside the computer at home, where I’d been working on the ribbing while reading e-mail earlier yesterday afternoon.
What to do, what to do? I’d just come from an AA meeting, so I was feeling pretty good, but boredom was settling in quickly. I had my iPod with me, but I recently dropped it and broke the screen and, while I can still listen to music, it’s difficult to see the last column of cards in a Solitaire game and impossible to play Scrabble.
I also had my cell phone, so after I called my husband I talked with my son and texted a friend. Even though the nighttime minutes were ‘free,’ there’s only so much one can say, especially on my antique cell that likes to drop calls as often as it likes to stay connected.
Obviously I made it home, and without incident. I learned that a major highway near us was closed for quite a long time, after more than a dozen cars were involved in accidents.
And I learned to always, always pack my knitting.