You're not here to read about a missing iPad. I knit for 79 years without one (more or less) and ought to be able to manage it again.
Kristen, Archie himself had exactly your idea yesterday. He came over in the afternoon, fully confident that he could find the iPad. He searched the house thoroughly, likely rooms as well as unlikely ones. He lay on the floor and looked under the furniture. He shone a strong torch (=flashlight) into dark corners. He listened to my detailed account of where-I-had-it-Thursday-evening (in the sitting room, with the pattern for the linen Pocket Square on it) and what-I-was-doing-with-it-Friday-morning (here, Zite).
And we tried FaceTime. My sister did it from CT while Archie was here. I could hear her device ringing in CT while Archie went from room to room listening in vain for mine. (Is it turned off? What does that mean exactly? It goes off – usually – when I close the lid of its cover and of course turns itself off if it thinks I'm not paying enough attention to it.) We had also tried FaceTime earlier in the day – Greek Helen tried it from Athens, and again I could hear her machine ringing.
Archie both reads and writes fantasy fiction, but he doesn't believe in the supernatural. Even he was coming around to my theory of a Malign Force by the time the afternoon was over.
I showed him the progress of his sweater, although we didn't take time off the search to attempt a try-on. He approved of the red hem of the one finished sleeve.
I don't really believe in the supernatural either, but I have a leaden feeling that this baby is gone.
I'll try to do some serious knitting today.