I know that totally sounds like a movie made in this century that is set in Edwardian England. Patience would be the heroine, but the title is an anachronistic thing, like Being Jane.

But it’s really about something else.  It’s about how I appear when I knit.  So many people have said to me, “I don’t have the patience to knit.”  I’m never sure what I should say back.   I am not a patient person.  Not that anyone would mistake me for one if they took my knitting away from me.

It’s the thing that keeps me sane.  And from saying things I shouldn’t.  And from freaking out in the car when my sweetie drives.

I don’t think I am actually any more patient, but for just a moment I can fool myself and others.

I spent 45 minutes in a parking lot on Saturday while other people shopped.  Many lives were saved on account of that sock.

On the house front, the Christmas lights are up.  As is our new cabinet in the laundry room, and the garage work bench/storage area is nearly complete.  All of this thanks to Marc the wonder sweetie who has been very.very busy indeed.

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