Most of you probably don’t know this, but I started my college career pre-med. Yes, I had the very grand aspirations of becoming a doctor. It didn’t take long before I realized that I had absolutely no math or science skills, but still I pushed on valiantly. For a whole second quarter anyway. That’s when I received noticed that I was on academic probation, felt like a huge failure, and I realized that I had to bite the bullet and give up on any delusions of becoming a doctor. Imagine my delight when years later, I found myself on the receiving end of an urgent message: There had been a terrible accident and I was the only one that could help.
Okay, I might be over-dramatizing the situation ever so slightly, but things looked grave. My young neighbor friend had decided to cut the tag out of her sweater and things had gone very badly. They needed a sweater surgery STAT, and I was the only person that they had.
I rolled up my sleeves, took a deep breath and surveyed the situation, this was serious:
I prepared for surgery, this was going to take all of my skills and resources. I managed to find a color match to the sweater in my handspun yarns. I carefully separated the plied singles:
It was time to get in there and see what I could do, there was no time for fear:
Like most surgeries, there will a little scarring but the patient will live to be worn another day. Not too shabby for an English major.