Knitting 101

I have recently taken up knitting, seems simple enough...

I want to go on the record as saying before I took up knitting I was a capable woman. Multitasking could have been my middle name. I could do the dishes, cook dinner, set the table, talk on the phone, get the laundry started, monitor what the kids were watching on TV, check my email, sweep the floors and let the dogs in and out countless times without so much as breaking a sweat.

At school I was known as the mom who could create anything from a few scraps of paper and some glue, you need and activity to keep 30 six years olds busy for an hour, I was your girl. If the class was celebrating anything I could come up with a cake, cookie or cupcake to fit the occasion. I was known as the crafty mom, the go to mom, the kids loved me and the teachers adored me.

I made Christmas presents, did clever photo shoots to keep the photo albums updated, handmade all the cards. I grew gourds so I could make birdhouses and then hand painted them, grew sunflowers so the birds would have plenty to eat . I made jams and canned peaches and made breads of all types. I had a yard that was beautifully landscaped and yes I worked full time. I was wonder mom!

So I go from all this to someone can no longer count. I swear knitting has made me an idiot. I have to have multiple sticky notes to help with placement, I cannot count, remember where I was last, what row, what stitch. When I finally complete a full row without a mistake I run around Hank’s doing a happy dance, this is what I have become, the happy dance girl at Hank’s, how did it come to this?

I can choose

There is so much about my fate that I cannot control, but other things do fall under my jurisdiction. There are certain lottery tickets I can buy, thereby increasing my odds of finding contentment. I can decide how I spend my time, whom I interact with, whom I share my body and life and money and energy with. I can select what I eat and read and study. I can choose how I’m going to regard unfortunate circumstances in my life-whether I will see them as curses or opportunities (and on the occasions when I can’t rise to the most optimistic viewpoint, because I’m feeling too damn sorry for myself, I can choose to keep trying to change my outlook). I can choose my words and the tone of voice in which I speak to others. And most of all, I can choose my thoughts. (Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert)

I read this and like a child discovering their feet for first time, I was shocked and amazed and giddy, yes giddy, I can choose. I'm 47 and I just realized this June 30, 2008.

This is where it begins.