Without Words

As I was driving home from Monday knit night, I was trying to compose this post in my head. I wanted the title of the day to tell what was in my heart, and I wanted the words to convey my joy and surprise and gratitude. And I sit here typing words and deleting them, typing new ones, and deleting those, too. Nothing seems right, nothing seems true, nothing seems enough. It's like I'm trying to move a bucket of air from here to there. But I will try again.

I am blessed - truly blessed - with the best friends in the world. Time and again I am stunned and dumbfounded by something they've done for me - silly ole' me. Now, they banded together and did it again, all in cahoots with one another.

In October and December, I had a few knitting friends over to our house. We knit, we ate, we talked, we laughed (there may have been a little drinking, I'm not quite sure...). I wanted my Monday gang to meet my Thursday gang and turn us into one big gang of happy knittiness. I did it for my own selfish reasons - I like to be surrounded by nice people who play with sticks and string. Well, a ringleader (or 2? maybe 3?) decided that a gesture of thanks was in order, and unbeknownst to me, approached the other knitters at the December get-together. And do you know what they did? Do you have any idea what they did?

They made me cry, that's what they did. And in public. In Panera's. See?

They decided that I simply had to have a copy of "The Principles of Knitting," by June Hemmons Hiatt. The Holy Grail of knitting books. The one I've been watching on eBay and Amazon for two years. The one that I desperately wanted, but could never quite justify the price. Notice I said "wanted," as in past-tense? Yep. They made me cry by getting me a copy of that book.

Now do you see why words fail me?

I have the best friends in the whole wide world, and I thank every single one of you from the bottom of most grateful heart. I am well and truly blessed.