Obsessive Knitting

It’s been in my head lately that Christmas is right around the corner and I have **NO** presents for any member of my family or friend circle bought, made, picked out, or budgeted for. I’ve been entertaining fantasies of finishing up my sewing room move for some time now, and I still have yet to replace the broken chair that I need to sit in while sewing that some of you may remember from my blog several months ago. I console myself with the fact that I’ve been nudging my way back toward my creative endeavors, albeit somewhat obsessively, by picking back up my needles and knitting away...

Unfortunately all I’ve been knitting lately are black hats. I haven’t dissected this yet with any of my panel of advisers, but I’m pretty sure they’ll call me on my wackiness. And the reason for my manic knitting spell? One of the Great Loves of my Past(insert melodramatic hand-to-heart gesture here) has been sent off to Iraq in the last couple of weeks, and this time I’m determined to be the dutiful friend sending off well timed, appropriately astonishing care packages full of the perfect items that he doesn’t know well enough to ask for. That was the aim of course, but somehow I’ve been sidetracked into maniacally knitting black hats. This one’s too soft, that one’s too itchy, this one’s not machine washable… you see the point? And yet I’ll be just finishing up with what I SWEAR will be the last black hat, and another yarn combination will pop into my head and I think I simply MUST try it out. Cotton, wool, cashmere, bamboo… I just know the perfect fiber combination to keep someone immortal is out there. For some reason all the fear and paranoia I feel at having one of my oldest friends over there has manifested itself in this incredibly impractical way. I mean honestly, how many black hats can one man own?

I am grateful for: text messages from Iraq, growing kittens, visiting Sedro next week with Tif, getting back in the creative spirit, and two amazing kids who can just be kids. Life is wonderful.