Settling in and All That

The perfect word to describe the excellent adventure of my day? Sherlock on Qualudes? Mr. Magoo meets Nancy Drew? (and exchange eye wear) Bond meets Ms. Blond?

I spent nearly an hour today looking for my spool of white crochet thread. I unpacked the entire drawstring trash bag that I'd packed them in until I could see everything left on the bottom. At that point I developed a number of theories as to what had happened, must of them involving the pristine white ball of thread rolling out of the open top of the bag between the front room and the car at home, between the car and my mom's van at Rice Hill, out of the back of the van when we opened it at a rest stop or restaurant or in Mom's driveway, somewhere in the car or van, between the van and the front room at Mom's.

All of these scenario's I could visualize more clearly than anything directly in front of my eyes.

Which is why it didn't register that the incomplete bookmark hanging out of the wrist bag containing the two spools of thread used in its construction was half white. That had been my portable project for traveling on Sunday. I have continued to work on it intermittently each day including today.

And yet I spent half to three quarters of an hour looking for that white ball of thread. I imagined asking my sister to go pick up a replacement for it and asking my husband for the money. I wrote and sent an email to Ed to ask him to look for it in the house, yard and car and tell him I would have to replace it as at least a dozen of the bookmarks awaiting tassels were partly white.

Not thirty seconds after clicking send on that email I happened to glance at the wristbag with the nearly finished bookmark dangling out of it and it finally clicked in my mind.

Oh what a doofus am I.