if you had told him , even a week ago , that he would be sitting in reykjavik , iceland , in a little wooden rocking chair , his knees practically up to his nose , knitting away while some old icelandic woman clucked her tongue and explained the popcorn stitch for the thousandth time while lydia stared at him with a look of incredulity that would make anyone cringe , he would n't have believed it .