Today I agreed to help Sue, a secondary character in my best friend's documentary about hillbilly culture, knit a baby blanket for her three month old daughter. I told my friend that if Sue knit up the squares for the blanket, that I would assemble/finish the blanket for her.
Did I mention that finishing is my least favorite knitting activity?
I don't know what compelled me to volunteer my crafting services to a total stranger but I've narrowed it down to a few possiblities:
A. I'd like to support my friend's art, and if he thinks knitting is good for Sue or his film, I won't deny it
B: Sue is in a six month lockdown drug rehab facility in West Virginia and I respect her desire to get straight
C. Sue is making the blanket for her baby who is currently having seizures due to drug withdrawl and deserves a comfy blankie to convulse upon
D. All of the above.
But finishing the blanket isn't even the nice part. It's the fact that she's got a phone card, and my number, and will be calling me from rehab for knitting lessons...