So I've hopped on the trolley bus (trolley lolly lo, don't ask me why trolley buses inspire me to say that whilst shopping trolleys, aka shopping carts for my American friends, don't) and I'm happily tidying up my stranded colourwork cardigan, when I hear the driver say "Wallingford."
Wallingford is my stop so I pull the cord. The bus screamed to a halt cos normally they say the name before they reach the stop. Oops. I gather up my bits and pieces hurriedly, shove them in the bag and hop off the bus.
The door to the Wallingford Centre, where you'll find Bad Woman yarn and the Wednesday knit night, is about hmm maybe 20 yards from where I got off the bus. I'm sorta glad about that because as I started up the steps to the entrance, I had this weird sorta tugging feeling,
I looked down.
I am very glad that I don't need the rest of the white yarn, nor do I need that extra 15m of blue. They were dragging behind me, the blue all the way to the gutter, like I needed to lay a thread behind me to find my way back to the bus stop, and of course it had been raining. So not only was the yarn draped behind me, it was sodden already. I gathered it up and a young couple gave me a boggled eye and a young woman smiled at me - she thought it was amusing. So did I, if a bit embarrassing.
Could've been worse. I could've left the remains of the blue ball on the bus and had it take off down the road on me. That would've been fun!
PS - you wanna see the cardigan? Wait! Patience is a virtue, they say, and you'll probably need the patience of Job. I have a gazillion ends to tie in and some bits to tidy up and buttons to get and button bands to sew down....