on the kindness of knitters

the doorbell rang this morning.

having just come out from the shower, i was naked. completely, utterly naked. i cannot emphasize enough how naked i actually was, because nakedness was crucial to the unfolding of events.

i figured it was the postman trying to deliver me something that wouldn’t fit the mail slot. usually i’d just open the door and see what he wants, but, as it’s been established, i was naked, and getting dressed fast enough was quite impossible.

at this point i realized i was not expecting any packages, because the 80€ yarn shopping spree i had conducted two days earlier surely wouldn’t have its goods delivered so soon.

for a moment there i thought whether i should just let him come back another time, or open the door in some type of “why mr. postman, do you have a package…for me?” routine.

my dirty thoughts were cut off by the sound of the package being forcibly forced through the slot. it made a horrible screeching, ripping and twisting sound as it was squeezed through inch by inch. all i could do was stand by and pray for the packaging to hold up and protect whatever was inside.

eventually it came through and i leaped like a hairless panther to open it. a very inconspicuous package it was, but my heart started to pound when i noted the sender was familiar. and that it came from canada. because nothing but nice pretty things comes from canada.

my heart began to race even faster. the contents felt soft. could it be..?


in finnish there’s this word called ‘ilopissa’, which roughly translates as ‘being so convulsively extatic with receiving unexpected free stuff in the mail that one loses control of his/her bladder, speech and consciousness’. after realizing this ridiculously gorgeous skein really was for me, and for no other reason except the giver being endlessly benevolent and the recipient having once lobbied (apparently very successfully) for the acquisition of said skein, i went ilopissa all over the place.

melissa, i love you, i will marry you, i will dress up like tinky winky and do the hula if you want me to. bob bless you and your futile attempts to rid you of your stash.

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