Hundreds of people move around me every morning and evening. Riding public transportation re-introduces me to the locals, highlights veterans of the commuter rail and every once in awhile allows me to recognize other people with similar schedules. Tonight I inadvertantly sat down next to a younger woman that had stood out to me on on the Monday morning subway. She was probably noticed by many; the quiet type you have to watch out for. This chick had some seriously sharp objects and she was stuffing them into her bag.
My girls would have been mortified but I let the woman know that I remembered her from North Station. She acknowledged my memory and asked if I knitted or crocheted too? I told her that I had when I was younger. I confessed that I wouldn’t know where to start and it was more a memory of my husband’s Nana. I explained that I had a few of her sentimental creations but her station in life was now North of our own.
I like to think she appreciated my morbid sense of humor. She liked to believe I understood her explaining the impact of a smaller needle and double strands. I altered the conversation with a smile and a question to take the focus away from a free knitting lesson.
“What are you making?”
She demonstrated that it was the bottom of a purse and threw the question back asking what I used to make?
“Really long rows. I guess you could’ve called them scarves.”
She encouraged me to fold them in half and make a purse. I certainly hadn’t saved them. I slung the current bag in my lap over my shoulder and wished her luck.
She was a veteran knitter and I was just a local trying to stay on schedule. I wonder if I’ll see ‘Pearl’ again tomorrow?
Who did you run into today?