I've been knitting for a good long while. My fingers know what to do and I don't have to think about the mechanics of it, the knitting just flows along without my active attention. While watching TV, as a passenger in the car, while waiting just about anywhere, the knitting just seems to happen-almost by itself.
First thing in the morning, last thing at night, it's knitting. Those extreme ends of the day offer some of the purest peace and quiet for just a few more rows. Waiting for that pot of water to boil? Opportunity to knit. Picking up hubbo from work? I can knit in the dark. I keep a sock in my pocket, you know, ready for those moments.
Occasionally life gets very busy and a day or two will go by without knitting, or there will be other creative projects that occupy my time and efforts, but not this time. This month my caregiver role has gotten to be quite heavy. I sleep in 2-hour shifts. The sleep deprivation has turned my short-term memory into swiss cheese. I forget to eat.
I am too tired to knit.
Yes, hard to believe, but true. There is indeed a state of fatigue where you can sit with simple knitting in your hands and be utterly unable to make a stitch (shortly followed by upright-snoring, of course, but you get the idea).
So, I'm sending the child off to the neighbor's so that I can power-nap. I'll catch up with you all later, when I can knit again.