Much as it did last winter, on the afternoon I was stranded in stopped traffic on the Richmond-San Rafael bridge in 30mph winds and driving rain. Having a hat to work on while I sat with the ignition turned off for 30 minutes prevented a full-blown panic attack.
This past weekend, having a pair of socks to work on prevented me from throwing myself from a moving car or walking into the surf. (In-laws, remember? Not merely in-laws, but a road trip with in-laws, the logistics of which I had zero control over. Prescription for a Becca breakdown.) Picture four adults in a not-so-big station wagon a little bit lost in downtown Monterey. One of those adults has the map and is sitting in the front passenger seat--the navigator (that was me). The designated navigator likes to take in all the surroundings and landmarks and make considered decisions (she also likes to feel that the driver is paying the slightest attention to what she's saying). The backseat navigator likes to shout out instructions and helpful hints like "it'll be on the left side of the road." Thanks. One glance would tell any of us that, but your multiple degrees sure are coming in handy right now. Combine that with color commentary from Passenger #3 along the lines of "Ooh, look at that funny sign. It says ... Mike's ... Muffler ... Shop. I wonder what that is?" The designated navigator surrenders the map, checks out of the group problem-solving process, picks up her sock knitting, and wishes there were some earplugs in the glove compartment. At one point during the road trip, I told myself, "You have several days left in this visit. You'd better pace yourself on the outrage."
I'm so grateful that knitting is an individual sport.