How nice. I walked from the house to the train station in perfect fall weather this morning. Leaves turning orange, sun out, a bit of a breeze. Caught the train, rode a few stops, and then a mere 10-minute walk from the station to the store. Far enough to get some fresh air and stretch my legs, but not so far that it was a chore.
The way home was a bit trickier, but only because, in over 20 years of living in Chicago, I've never taken the train from a suburb west of me to my town. I thought that I was on the right side of the tracks to go east, but then one commuter train stopped at the station going west, and then another, extremely long commuter train pulled in, also going west, but letting people out on the people going east side of the track. Using my best if-I-ever-get-a-chance-to-go-on-The Amazing Race skills, I found a kindly and portly conductor who verified that I was on the correct side to go east, but that the new train had so many cars that it had to pull in on the other side of the tracks. I don't know where they find these guys, but I always feel like I'm going back in time when I talk to a train conductor. Do little boys dream, still, of becoming conductors, and wearing the same uniform that they wore in the '40s?
I must have looked like I knew what I was doing, because one man waiting on the next bench asked when the train reached Union Station (I knew the answer because I had my trusty Aurora to Chicago train schedule) and a woman asked if this was the right side of the tracks to go into Chicago. It must have my black raincoat, the Ipod, and my knitting. And capping the illusion that I'm a commuter, I was met when I got off the train by my husband and my dog. We walked back in the dark, the dog dawdling and moseying along.
This is proper train knitting. Scarf #2 from Three Skinny Scarves from St. Seraphina knits.
I was thinking about knitting as a measure of time. What if knitters chose not to carry watches, and instead, interpreted time as a reflection of knitting accomplished? The left hand section is the time it takes to watch one hour of The Bachelor. The right hand section is my commute to work, 30 minutes waiting for the train to come home, and the trip home