What do old women dream? Have you oft wondered? Could you even guess? Is it about intimacy, fantasy, old lovers, or new ones? Vacations, cruises, wealth? That would be nice, but more often than not, there is no honeyed nectar or gratification in old women’s dreams even though in dreams they are young, vivacious goddesses with sweet lips, fluid movements, satin skin, dainty feet, and silky hair.
I know you don’t know and I could say, ‘guess again’, but the guessing game is so annoying, that I will simply tell you without dallying what old women dream.
I’m an old woman and I had a dream. Hub bought me a silly software program for my computer. Droll, boring. When it came up on the screen it was about knitting. A long overwhelming program of how to make cables, twists, uncommon stitches with up to four balls of thread, 3 stitch-holders, and 16 needles all at one time.
Now I am a novice knitter, occasionally able to foil my way through an intermediate project. Of course I have my own little tricks. If I miss a stitch, I make one and if I have too many, I knit two together. Those kind of minor errors are not sufficient reason for me to unravel 40 rows that I so diligently worked to complete. But the level of expertise in this software program made my head ache and all I wanted to do was eject that CD and smash it into smithereens.
But you know how dreams are. They can slam you into a place where you so do not want to be and hold you there kicking and screaming, but they will not let you go. You can’t run and you can’t hide in a dream. Legs water, presence like a flashing neon light. So there I was, cursing Hub, stuck in this software program that was every bit as annoying as a program that offers integration into Ultimate fighting or Smack-Down boxing. Yuk.
But in the midst of the many needles clicking and clacking in the foreground, and a droning annoying instructional voice in the background, I spotted a tiny icon in the lower right hand corner of the screen. That’s when I discovered that if I clicked on that tiny icon, it gave me a pop-up with choices like knit, purl, yarn forward, skip stitch, decrease, cast on, etc.etc.
And what’s more, then I discovered that Hub had my computer connected to a small and simple adapter with hooks and a ball of yarn. And guess what? When I clicked ‘cast on’, the computer said, ‘how many stitches?’ And when I selected 120 – it cast on 120 stitches, and now all I had to do is select the stitch abbreviations and man were we knitting. Fast as Hub’s computer train. No errors, no dropped stitches, no raveling, no runs. Clickety-click. Clickety-clack. Whoo-Hoo!
But when things get that good, there is always a hitch. Hub said, “Let me try,” and I did. The rest of the night I spent watching Hub churn out a scarf, a vest, a sweater, a dog jacket, and when I woke up I was really annoyed. There are days that it is exceeding difficult for me to ignore Hub’s weird sense of humor, and other annoying idiosyncrasies without him invading an old woman’s dreams disguised as a handsome lithe Greek God in order to….Knit!