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Yarn zen.

I’ve always had a problem with crafts. I become a crazed, obsessive person, trying to purchase every tool, storage unit and item necessary for the craft. I’d work with it intensely for a few weeks, then it would fade away.

Knitting hasn’t really been that way for me. I’m still obsessive, yes, but it’s been a different kind of obsession. A winding down of my day. A getaway during lunch. A distraction during long car rides. It’s no different than some of my other crafty indulgences, except that I seem to get more satisfaction out of working and completing projects.

I like the feel of the yarn in my hands, the formation of the piece step by step, until the product is RIGHT THERE, in front of me, done. I like the click of the needles. Choosing the project. Deciding which yarn to use. Even frogging and redoing holds some appeal. I like that it can be un- and re-done. You can easily fix your mistakes. Or knit through it, not worrying about the tiny things that no one knows or cares about except you. I can knit something flawless or something full of flaws and love it just the same. Every time I learn something new, decode part of a pattern or tackle something different, I feel strangely powerful. From holding two sticks together and knotting some string. I think it is because there are so many moments in my day where I just don’t feel right. Where I should/could/can do a better job at my job, at being a mother, at being a wife. I beat myself up for not being good enough while beating myself up for not trying hard enough  while beating myself up for beating myself up. But when I knit…it’s just me and that piece of yarn, makin’ somehin’.

It also doesn’t hurt that people are amazed at what I’m doing…because I AM an attention whore, you know.


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