I am slowly recovering from my bronchitis. I say slowly, because there is so much I would like to do, but I have to pace myself, since I get tired so easily. I have started to knit again! And making a frustratingly slow progress on my “Purple socks”. I hope I will pick up my usual speed as I continue to knit.
I am also trying to catch up to the chat that was happening on the Ravelry groups and on the Yahoo groups. It is interesting to me how many security conscious threads are in progress at any time. Should the knitters be permitted to have the knitting needles when they fly, if yes what kind, and according to some people the only safe way to fly is naked. After all if you have a sufficient imagination anything can be your weapon. Up to and including underwear. I bet if one is really determined, one can strangle someone with a thong, and let us not forget the “lethal” under wires in the bra, and the stockings, especially the support hose! Should they be banned too? You can guess I have been reading a lot of mysteries if I can find so many possibilities for mayhem in simple undergarments.
I remember, that when I was about 10, we went on a class trip to Moscow. My mother was actually one of the teachers. Now, remember, we are talking 30 years ago. So the first and the main attraction was the Lenin’s Mausoleum. So the first morning in Moscow we got into the line on the Red Square to wait our turn to pay respects to the “great leader of all time”. The line to the mausoleum was legendary. It stretched on for hours on end. Now, this was the middle of the winter, and we were all bundled up in our coats and wrapped up in scarves. Finally, the end was in sight. And that is when “it” happened. A slight digression. My Mom is almost 5′ tall, with a slight figure. She does not make a threatening figure even if she really wants to. She is not aggressive at all. That day she was wearing her suede coat with a beautiful fox collar, that dipped into a “V”. So, as we were ready to finally go in, all of the sudden my Mom was unceremoniously pulled out of the line by two burly KGB agents. We – the kids started squawking, and there, right in front of us, the third agent inserted his hand in the front of my Mother’s coat obviously trying to see if there was anything hidden in her cleavage. I really do not think my Mom was thinking about what was happening. I believe she just acted on pure instinct and outrage. She swung her purse and brained the agent over the head with it. Time stopped. Women standing in line yelled appreciatively. An officer showed up and checked our papers, apologised and explained that the agents have been concerned, that my Mother was trying to smuggle acid in her bra to disfigure the Lenin. Apparently she fit a certain profile. Amazingly enough I do not remember much about the inside of the Mausoleum. I actually have to thought about this in years. I have to ask my Mother, if she remembers this incident.
P.S. If you want to read more about visiting the Lenin’s Mausoleum, here is a very good article. And here is the Lenin’s Mausoleum history in photos.