This sudden u-turn brings to mind and is a wonderful illustration of the vocabulary-enhancing term "peripety," which I learned last year when we studied the book of Esther in our Wednesday morning Bible study at Christ Church. Dictionary.com defines peripety, or peripeteia, as "a sudden turn of events or an unexpected reversal, especially in a literary work." And peripety sounds very much like the unrelated word "peripatetic," which I learned 35 years ago while committing the entire original Broadway soundtrack of "A Chorus Line" to memory. "She walks into a room, and you know she's uncommonly rare, very unique, peripatetic, poetic, and chic."
"The Loggerhead experienced a peripety during the peripatetic leg of her egg-laying excursion, and headed back to the sea without a nest to her credit." Okay...moving right along...
On a less scholarly (but no less geeky) level, this v-shaped trail also brings to mind some recent knitting experiences. A peripety with regard to my Florida Southern Blanket came during the finishing stage. I initially chose this pattern because I love how the strands woven through add spirited color and contrast to the otherwise monochromatic project.
A month later, after knitting over 63,000 stitches and investing at least 100 hours in the project, I was tempted to leave well enough alone and skip the weaving and fringe. Not only had I about had it with the whole she-bang, but I thought perhaps the contrasting colors would detract from the simple but IMO impressive basketweave pattern.
But I soldiered on and wove the vertical veins and quickly learned, hey, this is pretty darn cool. I proceeded to cut an additional 136 2-yard lengths of yarn for the horizontal stripes and wove in a few. Now here comes the peripety. Whereas the up and down stripes were just right, adding the sideways ones would have definitely been too much. Not too much work - I'd come this far I was willing to gut it out. But just too much. So perfectionist, rule-following, black and white me, who joys in following instructions to the letter, instituted a knitterly peripety, ripped out the few offending rows, tied off the fringe and called it quits. I was quite pleased with the FO, my family was appropriately impressed and uttered satisfying oohs and aahs, and the whole kit and kaboodle now rests with its recipient - a hand-knitted graduation gift that was actually finished in time for graduation day - a feat in itself. (BTW, if anyone has need of 136 2-yard lengths of acrylic yarn, I have a large ziploc full of them!)
Here's a little clip of Eddie in one of his heats. This was his first contest outside of Florida, and we knew that the field of contestants would be larger and more competitive, as Delaware is a hotbed for skimming. Turns out Eddie can hang, though. He made it through the prelims, placed first in his semi-final heat, and then placed 3rd overall in his age-group, drawing the attention of a local retailer. When he competes again in two weeks, the announcer will introduce him as "Eddie Dixon from Vero Beach, FL, riding for Team Deep Six!" I believe this serendipity, rather than peripety.
I packed 3 knitting projects for the 4 day trip, plus extra straight needles in my carry-on bag, just in case Southwest Airlines or TSA decided I looked to be the type who would use my size 6 circular as a garotte mid-flight.
Turns out I only needed one of my projects with me - I worked on Lovey Gator all weekend, finishing it on the plane home.
Another thing I finished on this trip was Ann Hood's The Knitting Circle. A couple months ago I looked at this book and put it back, sure that it would be inevitably depressing. But, believing that I'm emotionally stable enough to get through it right now, I borrowed it from the library and loved it. It's one of those books that I miss when I'm finished, and now a week later, I'm still thinking about the characters. Despite its subject matter, I perceived an air of hope throughout, which kept it from dragging me down. And from a knitterly perspective this autobiographical novel is extremely satisfying. While a couple popular series are set in LYS's and provide a cozy, familiar, yarny backdrop, The Knitting Circle really focuses on knitting itself and how it pervades the heart and soul, portraying it as a tethering lifeline for a mother who is emotionally adrift after the death of her child. "You knit to save your life." This does not at all sound strange or exaggerated or melodramatic to me. I was not yet a knitter when I faced seasons of grief and depression and confusion, but now I can easily see how I would cling to my yarn and needles were I to be faced again with profound loss or suffering.
Not wanting to conclude a post with the words "profound loss or suffering," I'll leave you with a photo of Eddie as he prepares to enter the mecca-like Alley Oop Skim Shop in Dewey Beach - a long awaited pilgrimage.