Muscle memory

Adam made me matzoh brei for breakfast this morning. I hadn't had it in years and yet the first bite brought me back to our kitchen on Black Hills Road. You do not forget the taste of matzoh brei.

Yesterday I bought some knitting needles and cheapie yarn and had at it using online videos as a tutorial. My grandmother taught me to knit when I was eight. I knitted an entire ball of off-white yarn as a primer. Then my grandfather got a hold it and demanded to know why I'd knitted a reusable sanitary napkin. Ah, the days.