The Cardigan in Question

October fifth. There's a specific kind of Sunday morning that starts with opening the closet and immediately closing it again. Not because there's nothing to wear, there's something to wear, there's always something, but because the thing you want to wear requires a decision about what kind of afternoon you're planning to have, and you haven't made that decision yet, and the closet knows it.

The cardigan won. It's rust-colored and oversized and I bought it last October and wore it approximately four times before putting it away for spring and then forgot about it for eight months. I found it again last week while I was looking for my gray one, which I still haven't located, and I put the rust one on sort of as a placeholder and then didn't take it off. That was Tuesday. It has now been worn three times in eight days, which is what I call a successful reunion.

the hem adjustment. always the hem.

I've been thinking about the fixed-loop thing I noticed a few weeks back, the expired coupon booklet, the farmers market I kept meaning to go to, the Saturday routes that had quietly calcified into one route. The cardigan is not related to any of that but it felt like the same category of thing: something that was there the whole time, waiting to be chosen again. I don't know if that's a small insight or just an excuse to keep wearing the same sweater. Possibly both.

last step. always somehow the longest.

I sent Simone the community center's fall schedule last week, as a screenshot, almost as an aside, the way you forward someone something you found useful without making it a whole conversation. She replied with a thumbs up and then nothing. Which is probably fine. It's a Thursday ceramics class and a weekend photography walk and some other things I haven't looked at closely yet. The cardigan is more immediately relevant. I'm going outside now.