Sometimes They Come Back

My SO and I had a few friends over for a BBQ two nights ago. That morning we'd swapped 'offices'. I needed the larger room since he's got only office stuff, and I have a computer, bookshelves, an electic keyboard, knitting stuff, etc. which was overflowing from my room and invading his space. The move took longer than we expected, as it always does, and the result was a bit of a frantic clean-up an hour or so before people were to start arriving. Basically, we threw stuff in the appropriate office and shut the doors. All good. The BBQ went well. The guests went home happy if slightly tipsy.

The next morning I got up, made coffee, flipped on the TV and picked up the sock I'm working on from the corner of the coffee table where I'd left it. But when I went to grab the empty needle, it wasn't stuck into the sock the way I normally leave it. Neither was it in the ball of yarn. Or on the coffee table. Or under the coffee table. Or anywhere in the house as far as I could see. I was bummed. These were my new Clovers, my splurge, my only set of bamboo needles, and I love them. I still had 4 of the 5 so the set wasn't ruined, but it made me sad. Still, I resigned myself to finishing the socks with only 4 needles.

When my SO got up, I asked him if he'd noticed a small wooden needle while we'd been cleaning. He answered that he didn't think so, but when I put an empty needle on the table to show him what it looked like, his face kind of fell. He didn't remember throwing it out, but it kind of looked like a broken skewer, and he might have without even making note of it. I take full blame for that. The way I leave my knitting around the house, it was bound to happen at some point, and that's what I get for leaving small sticks lying around. I peeked into the garbage cans, lifting the top layer of paper towels and chip bags, but decided that if it was any deeper than that I really didn't want it.

In a way it's not surprising. At least one of the needles has been trying to run away from home ever since I started this sock. It started with falling down between the couch cushions, and by Tuesday it had jumped out of my hands while I was waiting for the bus. Clearly it had seen its chance and made its escape. Maybe it doesn't like the sock, or the yarn. (I'm making Knitty's Broadripple out of DGB Confetti in colour 01.005. I think they're really cute, but who can account for the tastes of inanimate objects?) I counted myself lucky that I'd only lost one, and decided to get on with my life. There are worse problems in the world, after all.

This morning I needed a hair elastic. My search led me to my bedside table. Laying there, right in front of my nose, hanging out with my hair 'chopsticks' (passé I know, but my hair is finally long enough) was my missing DPN. I don't know where it was yesterday, or the day before. I definitely don't remember putting it there, and I don't remember seeing it yesterday when I was searching the house for it. The only thing I can think of is that it went and had its little adventure and then decided to come home. Like a tom cat that disappears for a day or two and then comes back holding his tail a little higher than before as if he's just done the world a great service. I finished my sock on 4 needles, and am now debating whether I should use 4 for the second one or risk using the truant needle. I think I'll try it with 5, but at the least sign of resistance, back in the pouch it goes.