(Building on our street, in Prague)
I did something in public yesterday that I’ve never done before. Crochet. Yes, I had been telling you how I will be working away on the train to Krakow but there was every chance I wouldn’t even get it out of the bag. We went to a cafe for lunch. It turns out there’s lots of them in walking distance – thank you, Yelp.com! We picked one (according to the reviews) that didn’t mind the customers taking their time and having a little read or write as they ate. It was packed but we found a table near the door and I had a very lovely smoked salmon, spinach and yogurt sandwich.
(St. James’ church)
When I was finished I considered taking out my crochet but took out a pen instead and found something very interesting to write on the back of my crochet pattern. Denis was meanwhile reading away happily, unaware of my reticence. Soon I had filled all the blank spaces on the pattern so it was time to… ask for the wi-fi code. Ok got the code and looked up some interesting facts about tipping etiquette in Prague, very good. Then I check out Twitter, yes of course, very important. There were lots of people in Ireland saying how summer has arrived. Humph.
(Inside St. James’ church)
Then I opened my rucksack and checked to see if I’d brought the crochet. I had. It was time. I pulled the needle out first and had a good look at it. Yes the metal seemed intact. Then I reached back in to pull out the little quilt I’m working on. It no longer seemed so little. It took ages to extract (in a covert way) but eventually everything was sitting on my knee for all the world to see. So I took a quick look around at all the world. Well, surprise, surprise, they were busy with their own concerns, eating taking and writing. No one was taking a blind bit of notice of me. I can do this.
(Statue of a martyr in the Old Town Square)
So I began and it was fine, actually it was good, maybe even very good. And relaxing. It’s funny that sometimes when I think my stuff would seem odd to the people around me I don’t share it with them. They might think I’m odd. And of course I am odd but isn’t everyone? Isn’t everyone odd? Or trying not to be? Maybe it’s more relaxing to stop trying and just be odd?
(Lots of cobblestone, everywhere)
Embrace your odd, Mairead.
P.S. Hang on, maybe it is just me… probably shouldn’t post this one…