Very Short Important Blog

I can't be on here long, because I just left the animals alone for a long time tonight while I was at my crochet class!  I walked into the classroom right behind the other student.  "Here for crochet?" I asked.

"No, beading."

Uh-oh.

The beading teacher, her student, and I looked at my syllabus, my receipt, and the class schedule.

What day is it?  Is it the 4th?  What time is it?  Is it the right store?

We could find nothing wrong.

"Well, I'm a few minutes early," I said.

"Come sit with us to wait," said the beading lady.  "Don't be a stranger."

I sat and tried not to look terrified.  I really need this right now, I told the universe.  I might not have been as concerned, but both my teacher AND my classmate were missing.  NO.

Five minutes later, I went to go find a manager.  She checked the book.  "It is the 4th, right?"  Yep.  Then, in walks my classmate, identified by her plastic grocery bag of yarn and questioning expression.  "I'm here for the crochet class?" she says.  Yes.

We go into the classroom to wait for our teacher while the manager calls her.

"I found a classmate!" I told my beading people.

"Come join us!" they said.  But we were too busy chatting.  The manager came in to tell us the teacher was on her way.  Apparently no one has signed up for the crochet class all summer, so the teacher gave up on checking.  While we waited, we walked next door for water and chatted some more.  The teacher arrived, apologized, and class began.

I had a good time, the class flew by, and I have a start on what will be very large squares for my eventual afghan.

Recently there have been distractions threatening to derail me.  Tonight I got clear messages from the universe beckoning me along the scary, unfamiliar path that I suspected was the right direction in the first place.  Not only was the class still on- yes, you are in the right place, and you are welcome here- but also in an immediately comfortable conversation with a stranger, I got encouragement, understanding, and parallels.  In about five minutes, I got several confirmations that came like gentle V8 thunks to the forehead that I can have all the things in life I crave, but only by doing the things that I really want to do.

Don't cater, don't settle.

I started my chain.  I worked at the stitches, undid many.  I picked it up fast, and felt happy with my yarn choice.  Instead of doing the prescribed projects, the teacher talked with us about what we wanted to make.  I found out I can make an afghan pieced together with all kinds of squares: different kinds and colors of yarn, different patterns, different stitches.  It will have my first crocheted square and the latest ones as I learn new types of crochet.  I can make it bigger as I go.  I need no grand scheme.  And I can start immediately.

Somewhere in the fourth or fifth row, I found a hole that gaped a bit wider than the rest.  "Did I mess that up?" I asked.  "Yup," she said.  "Do you want to go back and fix it?"

Hell, no.