Confessions part 2

A not so graphic story. Only I was in my Syntactic Theory class for once and feeling sadly lost, and because knitting club was in the afternoon, I decided not to fret and just wind up yarn. (Syntactic theory comes at 10am and, with the best will in the world, it's rare i manage to make it before half-past, which borders on the wrong side of disgracefully late. The lecturer is very sweet and offers us chocolate and tells us not to worry but the class is still the only one i really shouldn't miss and unfailingly do. )

So yeah I was winding wool and accepting but not understanding the lecture, when the worst happened: I dropped the ball and it rolled rolled rolled down the steps of the theatre, under i don't know how many tiers of seats. Of course I exagerrate- the worst would have been if Prof Borjars saw it roll- but it was bad enough.

My brain woke up and rescued me though: I still had the end string in my hand- I could just wind it all up again- the yarn could climb back from under those chairs back into my hand. It was a clean theatre :p

I began winding again for dear life (while the lecturer coincidentally/ psychic-ly wondered if we were listening or knitting and told anectdotes about students knitting in lectures.) And then a big ugly Ugg boot stamped on the yarn and stubbornly interrupted the flow. I tugged I yanked I twisted to no avail. The wearer of the blasted boot was in front of me but somehow i didn't like to point out the yarn to her. So I carried on tugging and twisting and whenever she shifted her foot I'd take the chance and wind furiously before the boot descended once more. It was a close call but a last minute freeflow saved me.

:) Sorry to whoever might end up with that ball- I'm not sure which it is. One of the blue ones.
I do have some standards though- yesterday I dropped a ball on the bus which was all wet and icky, and didn't even attempt a rescue but cheerfully abandoned it to its fate.