When I finally land in Sacramento I am always delighted to find the public sculpture in the Southwest terminal---by Brian Groggin (look at his website! what cool work!!). I love these columns of suitcases! They just crack me up. I wish I had made them.
This crossing was surely a sign of our economic times. The whole Southwest flight from Long Island to the West Coast Southwest flight felt like a local subway route. Though the first leg from Long Island to Chicago was roomy, quiet and deceptively short enough. Then a quick board at Midway to the interminable flight to take me to the West Coast. This time the plane was loaded, every seat taken, more in character with most Southwest flights I take. Prior to boarding there was some confusion about the destination among the passengers in line, we all had the same flight number and 4 different destinations. San Diego, Sacramento, Seattle and Spokane. Geez! I wasn't prepared for another stop. Guess I didn't read the itinerary correctly---I have to compliment Southwest on how good a job it does of obscuring those details. It was disappointing after 4+ hours on board the crowded plane that the destination was indeed San Diego. When it was my turn to deplane, after another take-off and landing, I felt sorry, momentarily, for those continuing on and grateful that Spokane wasn't my destination, this trip.
The memory of the flight fades quickly, luckily, because I have 4 more Southwest flights to take.
I usually look forward to these flights for the opportunity to knit for uninterrupted periods of time and because it distracts me from the tedious passenger job. As soon as we were airborne I had my needles out and clicking away on a pair of socks. I thought they would be the perfect, portable project for this trip. I had only completed the toe and a few rows of the foot before leaving home and was sure this would be a breeze, so I included more yarn for second pair of socks.
But I can't tell you how boring this knitting is!!! I will though. Ugh. I knit for hours on those #1 needles, like knitting with angel hair pasta with only two rows of pattern to remember and it felt like I made little progress. Knowing knitters and unwitting civilians asked what I was knitting or who was the lucky recipient of my knitting efforts? The answer: if I can bring myself to complete even one sock, it will be for my husband and his pumpkin colored shoe(s).
Dennis asked me if the socks would be finished when we met up in Phoenix. I assured him he wouldn't be needing wool socks in Phoenix this time of year, so it didn't matter if they're finished then.
Knitting, when it's not for yourself, is an act of love.