But before the day had even started, I was "out-ed" as a physicist. Turns out that I've worked – albeit very briefly – with the daughter of the mother and daughter pair who had joined us for the day. These days, it doesn't take too much to distract me and this had already been achieved as the mother had attended one of my previous workshops and had brought her beautifully finished project to show the group. To be honest, I'm not really sure how to handle such situations. I'm delighted, of course, as it's a real pleasure to see the finished item and genuinely admire the different colour ways and individual styles of embellishment. I think that I'm surprised too, surprised and pleased that the workshop was actually interesting / useful enough that they have taken the time to finish the knitting and put together, in this case, an accessories bag that seems to have found a home in their knitting bag. It's lovely, really lovely.
The family outing also reminded of the wonderful times that I've had at knitting workshops with my mother. We've attended two together, one for a whole weekend and the second for only a day. I enjoyed both – though for completely different reasons – and seeing mother and daughter together has inspired me to try to make time to do something similar again with my mum. (I'm pretty sure that neither of us would like it if she came to one of my workshops: Not only would I miss out on the informal chat but I'd probably spend the entire time worrying that I was doing it wrong and so seeking reassurance from her. How not to look professional.)
On top of this, there was another familiar face in the group and, for a while, we both struggled to place each other. I was pretty sure that it was in a workshop environment and it turns out that we'd both been students at Debbie Abrahams' workshop in the summer. Confession time followed as we both admitted to not completing the stash-busting projects we'd started. I consider it progress that my project is still out of the box, within easy reach should I have the time / inclination to pick up the needles. I'm not sure Husband is of the same opinion but until he puts his voltmeter away, he hasn't a leg to stand on. (Of course, I could tidy both but where's the fun in that?)
So amongst all the stories of people being taught to knit by their grandmothers, I was asked if I was a physicist (and in the present tense, which was very polite). And then the pieces started falling into place: Familiar face, shared colleagues... Later on, when the chat turned to jobs, we were both struck as to the overlap of some of Daughter's current role and my old one. It all sounded so familiar, so ordered, so organised. And I found it interesting that I should focus on those elements that are clearly absent in a life centred on young children. But that’s not to say that the knitting elements aren't organised – it's just fitting them into the rest of chaos that gets a bit tricky.
Speaking of chaos, I guess that I should do some prep before the "moving pixies" come to pack up all our worldly belongings – I’m not sure that their expertise extends to my yarn-related interests and I guess a Health and Safety case could be made with all the apparently random needles in apparently random bags. And now is probably a good time to rationalise all my workshop knitting. Then again, I could get back to that stash-busting hair-band….