I grew up hearing the stories of the field workers in The Great Depression who would pick or shell peas in their sleep, and during one class in school a teacher drove home the point by showing us a documentary of The Depression that had that footage.
As a knitter I've often wondered if the same thing occasionally applies to me. For the last week I've been marathon knitting with certain ferocity. Self imposed timelines and a husband out of town helped me slip through a lace stole with abandon. Knitting 16 hours a day for days at a time and then falling into bed in exhausting. Do I stitch in my sleep? Do my fingers move like the cat's paws when she dreams?
Barring the creep-fest of filming my sleep and watching it back, I guess I'll never know, but it will be nice when the knitting dreams cease.
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