Recently I’ve been a little flighty with my knitting. Having Abigail and Elliot here has meant that knitting happens in little bits and pieces, a row here, a row there -our crazy sleep (or not sleep) schedules made for times that were well suited to bashing out little accessories of a newborn nature, little hats, long baby socks, stuff like that. I had plans though – mostly for baby stuff and socks.
I even had this big idea that I’d keep my advent knitting going – I got the advent socks from Cozy Knitter this last season. It was 24 stripes all leading up to Christmas and it was so lovely and peaceful to get up each morning and knit my two stripes (one on each sock) while I had my coffee and planned my day. I thought to myself that I would very much like to be the sort of person who gets up each day and begins with a small bit of sock. I imagined it being meditative and lovely and a really good way to g
I have fantasies like this all the time. “I shall knit sixteen rounds of sock each morning so long as I live” is right up there with “Henceforth I shall dust everything weekly” or “From this day on I will always make my bed” or “I will have an empty inbox at the end of each work day”. Lovely habits that seem like they’ll make me into a really impressive person but never really seem to work out. Still, the sock thing seemed reasonable and honestly I’m more likely to meet a knitting goal than a cleaning one,
the knitsmithy