Early yesterday morning I woke to the sounds of rain against the bedroom window and the low rumble of faraway thunder. It was cozy, so I rolled over and drifted off to sleep again.
What I should have done is immediately dressed and raced out of the apartment to catch the next subway.
Yesterday morning could best be described as commuting hell. New York needs to worry less about the next terrorist attack and worry more about the next weather forecast. And if the MTA wants us all to stay home, perhaps they should mention this before the majority of us leave for work.
It is at times like that when I am most thankful to be the Subway Knitter. Why? I'll tell you. I hopped on an N, found a seat, and while the train inched its way through Queens I inched my way up the body of Kate's sweater. As the train continued to Manhattan (after totally kidding about that whole we're-stopping-this-train-at-Queensboro-Plaza business), I continued with my stripes. All this worked well until I was unceremoniously booted off at Canal.
The colors shown in today's photo are a better representation than yesterday's. If things keep going like this I should be beginning the sleeves very soon.