Mum had a heart attack a few months ago and has been resisting all attempts to get her off her bed and "doing something".
Mum has always be a keen knitter so I had the idea of supplying her with some yarn and needles and asking her to knit me a l.o.n.g. scarf. Worked a treat. So now I have her lined up to knit a scarf for each of her grandchildren. (just what they need in a sub-tropical climate!)
My problem now is that the only place near me that sells "yarn" is the dreaded "Spot-blight". Oh how I hate thee...let me count the ways. BARN - no staff - BARN - horrid lighting - no staff - crap quality EVERYTHING - long wait at the check-out counter. But the worst of all - the "yarn" section. They NEVER tidy it up. It freaks me out!
So late Friday afternoon, on my treasured "day-off" I found myself in at Spot-blight, in the "yarn" section, looking for 3 balls of yarn ready for the next scarf. Now Mum's eyesight and memory isn't the best so I was looking for something with a little pizzaz to distract from the dropped stitches etc. Bearing in mind that this particular scarf is never likely to be worn - it is more "therapy" for Mum, so it didn't really matter what I chose.
For the life of me I couldn't find 3 matching balls in something suitable. I could find 1 or 2 but that was it. Until I realised that if I really searched amongst the mess I might just find a "misplaced" ball.
It started with me picking up 2 balls and then looking for a missing "mate". Then I found myself "seeing" balls of yarn that had been put back in the wrong section. So I returned a few to where they belonged. (It felt REALLY good) So I re-sorted a few more (and it felt REALLY, REALLY good) and so on and so on. I finally dawned on me that my behavour was a little odd so I shoved the armful of assorted "odd" balls of yarn onto the nearest shelf and beat a hasty retreat to my car.
I once worked with an amazingly gifted teacher of children with Additional Needs and her favourite saying was "there is a little bit of autism in all of us". For some reason, I think of her often.
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