An apology

If you stopped by the booth near the exit of Christkindlmarkt today, you may have noticed little balls of blue lint rolling around. Unfortunately, the culprit was my sweater. I blush to admit it, but so it is.

You see, one of the casualties of moving has been my wardrobe. I've had a lot of "I know it's here somewhere" moments when getting dressed, so last night, I decided to set my outfit out before I went to bed. I had the perfect sweater in mind for today's signing, but I hadn't seen it since the move, so I started hunting around in boxes hoping to find it.

I didn't.

I did, however, find a blue chenille-like sweater that I have only worn a few times. It wasn't what I planned to wear, but it's a pretty sweater, so I figured it would work. An all-too-quiet voice in the back of my head murmured something like, "There's a reason you don't wear this sweater," but it was late, and I had a signing in the morning, so I dismissed it and went to bed.

This morning, I looked the sweater over carefully. It seemed in good condition. I tried it on. It fit well. I figured I was fine.

Until I got to Christkindlmarkt. First it was the lint on the table, then the lint on the books, then the lint on the floor. Oh, it's so embarrassing! Soon, I was noticing blue dust in the air around me. I felt like Pigpen from the Peanuts cartoons... surrounded in a cloud of blue. Oh, how I wish I knew where my other sweaters were.

And, it didn't stop! Even when I got home tonight, the sweater was still shedding. I left a trail of blue lint as I walked through the apartment, and the red coat I wore all day is now purple. Purple! Honestly, it's amazing there's any sweater left.

But, at least I finally remember why I don't wear it.

Sunday, I'll be signing at the Clinton Bookshop in Clinton New Jersey, but never fear, the blue sweater will be staying home. Permanently.