I may, possibly, have met up with friends for a knit and natter at a sandwich shop.
I may have shown them my skeins dyed with goldenrod, madder, and indigo.
A fine sprinkle of powdery excess indigo may have fallen off onto the table.
I may have swiped at the dye with a damp napkin instead of brushing the bits with a dry napkin, and we may have scrubbed the stained table ruefully with the contents of more than a few salt packets and several lemon wedges. Maybe.