The Problem With Me

The problem with me is that I cast on project after project. I have all these great intentions. I start this project for that person and those things for someone else, oh, and a few little (or big) things for me. And before I know it, I am surrounded by knitting works in progress. Actually, the road to that realization is walked when I want to cast on another really great thing, and can’t find the needles that I need because they are busy… still.

The other problem with me is that this year I was supposed to be knitting for me. I declared this the Year of the Sweater. I bought my dream yarn and had it all figured out. This year was going to be all about me. Only, I don’t get as much pleasure knitting for me. I love knitting for my kids (who wear my creations proudly and shout out to anyone with ears, “My mama made this for me!”) and Christmas gifts and baby shower gifts. So, while I have knit myself two sweaters and cast on two more, I keep getting distracted with making things for other people (mostly my kids, but whatever).

And finally, another problem with me is that I feel guilty about all of this. I feel guilty when I start a new project if I haven’t finished something else first. I feel guilty that I haven’t worked on anything for me in a while (okay, that one is weird, but maybe you can understand?), and I feel guilty for feeling guilty.

Because here is the bottom line. I knit for fun. Where do all these “I should”s come from? What is the deal with the self imposed deadlines and restrictions? Am I really that crazy that I turn my hobby, my passion, my art into something to feel guilty over? No! I am not that crazy. I knit for fun and if fun is casting on to every needle I own and surrounding myself with half finished works of art, then by golly, I will cast on!

In celebration of this new found freedom, I am going to find a new project to start. I am going to sit with all my knitting bags full of works in progress and I am going to knit a new something. Carefree. Enthusiastically. With all my great intentions of finishing it. Someday. Maybe….


My husband, Marc, had a revelation last night. I was casting on this,

and I was sitting next to this (which I cast on the night before)

and on the floor in my knitting bag was this

and next to that in another bag was this

Marc turned to me and said, “I just realized that this is never going to stop.”

Temporary Insanity

I consider myself a fairly even-keeled person. I don’t tend to veer off on wild tangents very often, but it seems like every once in a while, out of the blue, crazy strikes. There was the recent puppy incident, which we won’t relive while it is yet fresh and painful. And there was the time I thought I should knit the medium size diaper cover for a newborn (because there is no way babies come out that small!) But I usually recover in time to save myself. Usually.

Meet exhibit A – Yarn (that I hate) on comically large needles (that I hate) being knit into a pattern (that, you guessed it, I hate).

You’d think that I would stop. Maybe I would say to myself, “Self, yarn that you hate on needles that you hate kntting a pattern that you hate is not going to produce anything you will love.”

Meet exhibit B:

Not only did I finish knitting every, excruciating row, but I actually put it on a chair in my house for all too see! Not too bad, you say? Kinda interesting, you say? Observe.

Exhibit C- After a mere two months of wear and tear:

I rest my case.