Knitting Outside

I sit under a tree each afternoon and knit, waiting for my wife, Ellen, to pick me up from work.

On Tuesday, I found a little green spider on my left forearm. I thought about Arachne, the Greek weaving goddess, and then about the four spider sisters in Journey to the West, evil, scary tricksters--

By the time my brain was done musing, the little spider had moved to my right thigh.

Flick!

Wednesday, I sat under the tree, knitting my sock. About five minutes into it, I realized I had a green spider on the back of my right hand. I started thinking, perhaps the spider was watching my continental technique, and how I purl pretty darn quickly-- not a world contender, by any means-- but maybe it was interested, much like when one knits in public, strangers walk up to watch. Maybe it wanted to give ME some pointers--

Flick!

Thursday, I went to sit at my usual spot under the tree, and walked through a mass of spider web. Sticky lacework.

I'm sorry. Were you expecting a point to this?