Cathair na Mart Thursday Market

A lovely bunch of organic lettuce, basil and arugula (rocket)
from the market yesterday -- a curious mix of fresh produce,
home-baked breads and pies, woolen goods, bead jewelry,
slate etchings and garden plants. I stopped by one table
where a woman was selling, among other things hand-knit
gloves. When I picked up a pair, she said,
"Those are from before I lost my yarn."
I said, "Your yarn! How did you lose your yarn?"
I noticed a flapping of sorts below her shoulder,
and she said,
"No! My arm!"
Oops.
Now she makes baskets out of strips of aseptic juice
boxes and milk cartons. She said that she uses everything:
her (remaining) hand, her teeth, her feet. I must admit I was 

mortified at my mis-hear. Or, er, my creative hearing.
I mean, it did kind of make sense, seeing that I was
holding a pair of knit gloves, and her flappety sleeve
was resting quietly at her side. Granted, it's rare
for a knitter to lose her yarn. But you never know.