History

In July of 1999, I started a new job. I was nervous. It was my first job working in a hospital and I didn't want to look dumb. I tried to dress like a smart pharmacist should and packed my lunch.

New jobs are often overwhelming. I spent my first couple of hours getting a tour of the little hospital and then I promptly got lost. I was feeling out of my element and cursing myself for thinking that I could handle this new position when a miracle occurred. It was coffee time. (That isn't the miracle, although some days you'd swear that a strong cup of joe was sent from above.) I was whisked off to the cafeteria by a very tall co-worker. And that's how I met T. She showed me where to get coffee, who was nice, who was likely to show up one day and shoot everyone in a fit of rage. You know, the important stuff. Every day, we found we had more and more in common: a small town upbringing, interesting families, a sense of humor. Eventually, we even took up knitting together and the rest is history.

The reason I'm telling you this (I'm talking to you, T. It just happens that all 3 of our other readers get to see it, too.) is that our friendship is pretty special. As you like to say, I don't have a lot of friends, I just have good friends. Not many people would put their friends picture on a stick and bring it along to a knitting retreat to be photographed by knitting rockstars. Or listen to an exhausted and hormonal mother complain about how hard it is to have a baby and a toddler. And there sure aren't many people who would give away the very first shawl that they themselves designed....

but you did. And every time I wear it, I think of my good friend T. and how much you mean to me. It's like a hug whenever I need it. Thank you. For the shawl and ,more importantly, for everything else.

Now wipe your nose and stop your sniffling. We've gotta get knitting if we're going to knit another 24 pairs of socks this year.