You know Lauren, until recently she posted at Almost Felted.
Since she's moving to a warmer climate , she decided to unload many of her handknits. If you read her blog, you know that not only is she talented but prolific. She has a lot of handknits, and all were just the right size for her very small self. Here she is , bullied into posing on a packing day ( doncha hate photographer bullies?) with a basket of her gorgeous garments.
There's a group that helps new arrival refugees get set up here. Here being New England, they have a chilly time the first year. Since third world females are smaller than your average North American woman, I told Lauren about them, and she passed the whole big basket of wooly love on. This week, seven Iraqi women who arrived with nothing warm, are set for the winter. If that's not good knitting karma, I don't know what is.
Elsewhere in the karmic knitting world balance, at a backyard party , a frisbee hit a small table, sending a large cup of beer flying . The table was surrounded by grass except for one flowered tote bag. Which held my knitting. Since just then I had been persuaded against all good reason to get up and sing backup with the jamming musician friends- all good reason being the fact I have a horrible voice- I wasn't there to grab the bag. The sock and a half were inside, in a zip lock bag. Unzipped.
In the car home, I reached in to knit a few rounds and found a sock, yarn and needle marinating in a couple of ounces of ale. Maybe its me but I think you should at least finish knitting your sock and wear it before it sops up a beer at a party?
The bit of good karma here is that the alpaca/silk project underway was not in the bag. Sock & wool are recovering now, after a quick bath, needles and all. Those who heard me sing? I think they are still recovering.