At first it was just a hobby….

Teacozy for Sam's work pot.Honestly…I never expected it to come to this. I started out knitting in May (2006) as a way to get out of my body and possibly my mind to a certain extent. I was at that place in chemo recovery when you’re not quite ready to get up off the couch, but your brain is antsy and prone to wander down disturbing lines of thought. So I said to Sam one night, “I need a hobby that will require some of my attention while letting my body and mind rest as well.” I decided to try knitting again.

The irony of sitting in Texas, in the heat of May, with a big lap-full of wool was not lost on me. People said, “Is that a scarf?” with a look of bewilderment. But my son was thrilled to get to pick his own colors and my daughter insisted on running around the house in her headkerchief for days. I was off and stitching.

I say again, because I’ve tried before. A number of times before actually. It’s always seemed too hard, too time consuming, too much counting, too many stitches (and on one notable occasion, it actually made me sea sick). This time it clicked…and since May I’ve become a complete junkie. I have multiple projects in semi-finished states.

Knit french market bag in brown and moss green.

I have a yarn stash, some of which has no project attached (it was pretty….you know what I mean). I’m lusting after particular needles. I know brand names and I’m beginning (and only beginning, I’m sure) to understand the vagaraties and magic of guage.

Since May I’ve knit bags and scarves, critters and cozies, gloves, purses. I’ve felted in my front-load washer with a pair of jeans and many mantras. I’ve ‘wrestled porcupines’; the fine art of juggling 5 double pointed needles with only 8 stitches on them. And, yes, I’ve held my breath while very carefully picking up the 14 stitches that just fell off the end of my Addi Turbo circulars.

Three knit and felted, black, and brown.

There were also oddnesses and failures. Doll-clothes, wrist bands and a gaiter I frogged three times and finally gave up on.

Knitting has been everything I needed it to be and more. I’ve tapped the zen of endless rounds of stockingnette. I’ve found a community of sardonic, oulandish women who knit as well. We laugh and stitch and laugh some more. My children are starting in with knitting mushrooms. My husband is after hand-made socks. And the stash grows…


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