Jean Croker Petke

Where are your knitting needles?

Where are your knitting needles?

I’ve heard of people with memory disorders putting their things in strange places, and then not being able to find them. As my friends and I age, we often talk about such things, and pray that they pass by our lives.

However, this afternoon I lost my newly purchased knitting needles. They appeared to have taken off, to places unknown, all by themselves.

The mystery began after an afternoon of errand running. I had frozen items on my car’s front seat from my unplanned visit to Aldi’s — hence, nothing was bagged. And I had a bag of items from Target, a bag from Lowe’s, and a small flat paper bag from the yarn store containing two sets of double-pointed needles.

Once home, I unloaded all the items from the car onto my kitchen counter. The frozen items went immediately into the freezer. Then I started hunting for the bag of knitting needles. I moved everything on the counter. Not there. I went to the garage to search my car. Nothing there. I returned to the kitchen and looked under all the items on the bar. Still not there. Back to the car. I searched under the seats, on the floorboard, and the narrow space between the seats and the center console. Not there. Back to the kitchen. They’re still not on the counter.

“I know the bag was in my car,” I said to myself. “I remember seeing it on the console. How could it have disappeared in the twenty feet between the car and the kitchen counter?” I was mystified. Frustration was building.

Back to the garage. This time I walked all around the car, remembering that I had unloaded some items from the passenger’s side. Still nothing.

Finally I checked the freezer, although I couldn’t imagine how they would have gotten there. Nothing there on first glance. Only when I moved the recently purchased box of frozen salmon patties, did I see the thin brown bag stuck to the bottom of it.

See, they did get there by themselves. Blame it on the box of salmon patties. Blame it on my inattention as I put things in the freezer. Blame it on the conspiration of the universe, plotting against my sanity and possible onset of dimentia.

Chilled knitting needles might be nice when knitting a winter sweater on a warm summer day. Perhaps I’ll do it on purpose next time.

My knitting needles are in my freezer.

Where are yours?

Until next Tuesday . . .

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