Monthly Archives

January 2016

Valentines Knits for Even the Most Bitter

Valentines knits for even the most bitter. Tis the season for chocolate and wine. Regardless of the whole love situation.

Valentines Day has never exactly been my favorite holiday. Although I do like the chocolates. Otherwise, meh. Call me bitter. I am.

This year is a bit different for some reason. I think it’s Reed. He wanted another party. Apparently he didn’t get his fix back in December for his birthday.

I told him if he was good, he could have a Valentine’s Party. Oh did he light up with a glow specific only to a young child who knows they have cake and cookies in their future. It’s cute to watch.

Although I did have to explain that his party would not include innumerable gifts. I think he gets it.


His little friends have been invited. Via text. I know. I KNOW. I had visions of some adorable toddler craft session to make invitations. You know, where I would be INCREDIBLY patient with scissors and glue sticks and layers upon layers of paper hearts and glitter glue.  I wouldn’t snap even once (Don’t touch anything!) and would calmly direct hand washing at the end of the project (Wash your hands RIGHT NOW or I will never feed you ever again!) But it didn’t happen.

We have two weeks left for party plotting. Already the menu is set: heart-shaped sugar cookies with sprinkles, cake and chocolate frosting (also with sprinkles), and tacos with the fixings. Also: red wine for moms and qualifying dads.

I can’t wait. I hate to admit.

DSC_0009The enthusiasm must be spreading because I impulsively started a Valentines Board on Pinterest, which I have been curating with bizarre dedication to all things in the appropriate color spectrum or otherwise related to hearts. Don’t panic if you don’t have it in you to obsessively bust out a red sweater in the next two weeks. A knitted garland of hearts might be more up your alley. There’s something there for everyone, even the bitter among the knitting ranks. I promise. Take a peak.


I also somewhat (okay, completely) impulsively decided I am going to knit myself a pair of these mittens for Valentines Day. When I knit up a pair for a bestie last Christmas, I fretted they were too bright (Malabrigo Worsted in Orchid). But you know what: I like bright pink. They’ll be absolutely perfect for Valentine’s Day. And I have a skein left.

Why not?

February’s cold. Mittens are soft. Pink is pretty and uplifting. The end.

I deserve a pair. Even though they weren’t on my bucket list for the year (already, I stray). At least it’s a stash buster, which was a resolution of mine. Partial redemption credit?

I haven’t cast on yet. But soon.



In the meantime, I am rejoicing the survival of January, perhaps the bleakest of the winter months. Today is supposed to be our first non-rainy day in what seems like eternity. Perhaps, just perhaps, I will be able to steal a moment of knitting in a sunbeam (always a favorite of mine) and let my mind wander to thoughts of pink, hearts, chocolate and maybe even a little bit of love.


Denial in Knitting–Let’s Face It!

What to do when you are ready to overcome denial and admit your knitting project isn't quite right.

This may be ill-advised, but I have come to the realization that denial is a fairly essential part of life. At least my life.

As in:

  • No, my pants are certainly not tighter today that than they were a weak ago. (And no, the cookie I just ate that was as big as my face had nothing to do with it…why do they even bake cookies so incredibly big???)
  • I am absolutely positive I can make it home without my car running out of gas.
  • Surely my bank’s online checking account statement is just, well, off a bit.

Like that. Denial. Pure and simple.

The good stuff.

Denial is also a vital element of my knitting life. The way I tell myself a new project I am working on will turn out GREAT–the best cowl/mittens/hat/scarf ever knit in the entire knitting history of humanity. Despite a flaw. Not the kind of mistake you can tink back and fix, either.

I am not talking about a dropped stitch or a missed increase. I am talking about a Design Flaw.

Design flaws lend themselves to a particular flavor of denial. When ready (deep breath!), the knitter can be brave, honest, and ultimately put aside the rose-colored glasses for the knitty-gritty truth and see the options for what they really are.

Options Available to Knitters Who Have Been In Deep, Deep, Deep Denial

  1. Frog the whole project. Set down the needles. Unravel. Wind the yarn. Start a new. This isn’t so bad if you haven’t gotten so far yet.
  2. Scissors.  I know it sounds scary, but it’s possible. A slight pain, true. Scissors are a better option when your project is quite far along and the fatal flaw is closer to the cast-on edge.
  3. Morph your project into something…different. Sweater too big? Make it a robe. You made two right-handed mitts (I do this every stinking time!!!). Make two-left handed mitts.
  4. Decide denial is really the best path forward. Bury project as-in in the back of the closet, behind your wedding dress. (So far, it hasn’t come to this. Yet.) IT NEVER HAPPENED.

I have this sinking feeling that I am heading straight for Option 2. Again. You think I would have learned the first time. I could have sworn I had found a solution. An improved design approach.

I didn’t. I just made a slightly different mistake.

My cast-on edge just isn’t jiving with my itty bitty honeycomb pattern, and their is a fold in my cowl. I won’t know for sure until it is off the needles (see, I am STILL in denial!), but I don’t want a fold in my cowl. The fold didn’t look so bad at first. (They never do…) As my project has grown, my design flaw is becoming so apparent that even the strongest form of denial (and it is strong, I assure you…) can no longer hide the situation. My design has a, well, issue, and I need to fix it.


Honeycomb stitch.

I love the rest of my project. The yarn (Madelinetosh Pashmina Worsted) is particularly soft (cashmere blend!). The color (Dried Rose) is divine. I can’t quite let go of the entire thing. Even though I am tempted to frog 250+ meters and start all over. To make it again, perfect from the outset. Two weeks of solid knitting down the drain.

But I just can’t.

Honeycomb stitch.

The last time I used scissors, I had to rescue 136 stitches. This time: 248.

Looks like I better stalk up on wine and chocolate. I am going to need it.

Linking up with Ginny for the Yarn Along. Just started reading You Should Have Known.

Knitting Socks With Nine Inch Needles

Sock knitting with 9 in (23 cm) needles. Tricky but possible.

A while back when I was hemming and hawing about the merits of double pointed versus magic loop techniques for knitting socks, a reader cleverly pointed out that there is such a thing as 9 in (23 cm) needles for sock knitting. Knit them in the round and no complaining.


I ordered a pair promptly thereafter (WEBS carries one single brand in size 2 (2.75 mm).) My first attempt at usage was casting on a pair of ladies socks with just 52 stitches. I didn’t get far. After a couple of rounds, it was apparent these little cuties would have to wait for a men’s socks knitting project with more stitches per round. The rounds were just too tight and stretched to work.


Fast forward a few months and I have cast on my first pair of men’s sock. 64 stitches. The perfect amount for the super short needle. I am using the Hermione’s Everyday Sock pattern, free from Ravelry here and generally hoping the pattern will be male-suitable. (It is, right?) The yarn is the Plaid Blanket colorway from Madelinetosh Sock. It might be sacrilegious to say something mildly critical about one of my favorite yarn brands of all eternity, but the forest green shade is pooling in a particularly irritating way.

What is the point of a sock yarn that suffers from color pooling when you knit…socks!

Good grief.

I am tempted to abort because of the pooling, but I think I will just keep with it and have faith it turns out well in teh end. Determined, I am.

Or in denial. Hard to tell sometimes.


From the first few rounds, I could tell it was going to be a rough go. My hands were cramping on the inside edges of my palms, and the knitting was slow going on those itty bitty points.

I wasn’t having that much fun.

But it was possible.

I mean, if I found myself unexpectedly stranded on a tropical island with a well stocked bar, an infinite supply of high quality sock yarn, and this one pair of ridiculously short and tiny sock needles, I would be grateful and plod away without (much) complaint.

However, I am not (presently) in this predicament, am I?

I told myself I had to at least make it through the 20 rounds of ribbing before I could make up my mind. For sure.


I finished my 20 rounds dutifully, not unlike the way an Olympic athlete completes their jumping jacks (or whatever) at the beginning of their training sessions.

And then I switched.

Magic loop, I am BAAAACCCCKKKK.


And these little babies…? Well, into the hall closet they go.

Best Shoes for Hand Knit Socks

The good news:  I finished these socks. This means there are now three pairs of hand knit socks roaming around my sock drawer.

Bad news: my shoe situation is shameful. It’s been years since I purchased non-sneakers. YEARS. Apparently I am not a footwear addict. I have a strong, loving relationship with my cobbler. But it’s time.

My conundrum: which shoes to buy? I think I have mused on this topic previously and received several comments that Keen shoes were tops to pair with hand knit socks. I hate to say it, but the Keen shoes just aren’t doing it for me (although I do own a couple of pairs of Keen boots).

For some reason, I have my head stuck on loafers. Even though I don’t own any. (And, can you wear loafers with socks? Or is that dorky?) Last week, I ordered these loafers from Amazon in the color black. They were affordable and had two-day free shipping.

Ick. Return. Some things just aren’t worth free shipping and affordable prices.

I want shoes that will compliment my knitted socks and not overly wear away at them. Is that too much to ask?

I also haphazardly started a Pinterest Board for shoes for hand knit socks…but I didn’t get too incredibly far. And note, none of the shoe models are wearing socks with the shoes! Very loafer based, and many styles out of my price range…The cheaper the better, although under $100 would be nice.

Typically my non-sneaker shoes that I wear to work have a bit of a heal to mitigate the fact that I am SHORT. Lengthens the legs. Or so I hope.

So knitters, this is my query: which shoes should I buy??!?!?!?!!?!?

Linking up with Ginny.  Reading Wishes and Stitches. Might as well finish the cheesy knitting trilogy…




Sometimes Blocking is Not a Good Idea

There are occassion when blocking knitting should be avoided at ALL costs. Trust me.

This may be blasphemous to say, but I feel a strong conviction that there are several occasions blocking your finished knitting is a bad idea.

It Fits Perfect The Way It Is

Maybe your swatch failed you. Maybe you just didn’t swatch. Or, maybe you didn’t soak your swatch and patiently wait for it to try. Who knows. Whatever the case may be, sometimes your finished knit fits perfect before blocking. The sleeves are the perfect length. The torso just falls just so. A neckline to die for.

This is of particular importance if you have just knit something large. A sweater. Or, worse yet, a dress. Yet still, a full length Oscar gown. (Hand knit Oscar gowns should be more of A Thing, by the way. Someone, quick, send Hollywood a Twitter. Or whatever.)

This is all I can say: DON’T BLOCK IT.  Leave it alone. At best, spritz lightly with a spray bottle and lightly iron the thing (assuming an all-natural fiber).

Also: DON’T GET IT DIRTY. Washing will be difficult. Wear with an undershirt, a slip, or some type of something that will absorb any and all body odor.  Avoid wear around toddlers, Italian food, red wine, cooking with splattering grease (actually just stay out of all kitchens at all times), and gardening.

Just be thankful the darn thing actually fits and take good care of it. Cast on the next project.

Your Wool is Extra Stretchy When Wet

I have become a good better little knitter and now soak my swatches, pin them as I would my finished knits, and wait for them to dry (the worst part, by the way). Even so, I could swear my finished knits stretch much more than my washed and pinned swatches. I think the tremendous weight of the wet wool, being much more substantial in mass than an itty bitty swatch, cause the actual thing I have knit to stretch much more than my swatch.

It’s just my working theory.

I am constantly surprised by how much my wool can stretch, even if I am being gentle and not trying to stretch it. With some yarns that I have worked with again and again (say Madelinetosh Tosh Merino Light), I just know the stuff can really stretch. I amend my math with what you might call Gut Instinct. I do my swatch math…and then add a little something to it for the Stretch Factor. There is no hard and fast formula for it. It just comes from making the same mistake over an over and over experience.

Your Stitch Pattern is Particularly Three-Dimensional or Perfectly Textured

This last example is the category to which I most recently fell victim. …Although I kind of victimized myself on purpose for ulterior motives that I will Keep Secret as you to maintain your faith in me that I somewhat know what am doing (even though I don’t…). If your stitch is particularly dimensional and textured…Or textured in a subtle but very significant way that MAKES your entire project, DO NOT BLOCK. Your dimensional stitch will change and BECOME FLATTER. Your subtle texture? Gone!

Case in point: before. Full. Fluffy. Dimensional honeycomb-type stitch. You could hide marbles in those honeycombs!

Great stitch dimension and texture.

After soaking and pinning: flat, dimensionless honeycomb-type stitch. An entirely different beast altogether. The good news: my overall piece worked better as one stitch type transitioned to another. Plus I had a finished cowl, which is exciting.

(This is Madelinetosh Pashmina Worsted in Betty Draper’s Blues, by the way. This Worsted Pashmina is discontinued, but I love it. It can still be found at discount on many online yarn shops, although WEBS is out of it completely now. Quick, off to Google you go!)
A knitted cowl. Simple and beautiful.

If Your Finished Knit Is Exactly How You Like It

Your project is the right size? You like how it looks? It’s dimensional in a way that resembles the Greater Universe? Your project is a hat, scarf, or cowl-type thing that doesn’t particularly need to be washed anyway?

Leave it alone! Spritz and iron.

Consider yourself lucky.
A knitted cowl. Love. Simple and beautiful.

As for my cowl…I like it. Even though it didn’t come out exactly like I planned (and when does it ever?). I am eager to move on to Development Phase 2 and see what comes next. Hopefully something not too incredibly disastrous. And, possibly something I won’t soak and block.

Just maybe.





Blueberry Waffle Socks No. 2

Free Blueberry Waffle sock pattern on Ravelry.

Knitting socks is much more fun when their isn’t a looming deadline.

Now, you might think it strange that I am finishing Blueberry Waffle Socks No. 2 AFTER pairs No. 3 and No. 4. Yes, I can do sequential math (most of the time).

Things just got a wee bit out of order around here. Pair No. 2 was supposed to be a holiday gift, but the first sock came out too small. How handy that I have small feet! Now they are my gift…to me! Or, at least they will be when they are done.

The second sock is well under way, heel turned and gusset reduced. Now it’s just a stitching marathon until I get to the toe. I have been pulling the sock out now and again whenever I think I can sneak a row or two. The other day, Reed caught me and directed me to put away your knitting, mama. 


Apparently Legos are a much higher priority. Drats.

Pair No. 2 is knit in Schoppel Wolle Zauberball Crazy in the Blue, Green, Aqua colorway. I tried SO HARD to get the self-patterning yarn on the second sock to match the first. I wound and Wound and WOUND the skein, desperately searching for the perfect place to restart.

Oh my heavens.

I ended up with tendonitis, a migraine, patently frustrated but with no actual match. I figure the two socks will be color coordinated albeit not identical, and that is good enough for me.

I tried my best. I can live with that. Better luck next time, eh.

It’s still fun to watch the colors unfold, one blending into the next. I plan to use the leftover yarn to knit a second pair of sock for Reed.

All in all, the free Blueberry Waffle sock pattern has been good to me, and I would recommend it to others happily. After knitting (nearly) four pairs, I am ready to cast on for a little some different…Maybe get a bit wild, dim the lights, pour the wine, and try something…toe up!

Joining Ginny’s Yarn Along. Still reading How to Knit a Heart Back Home.


I Actually Knit A Latvian Braid Without Screwing Up

I actually knit a Latvian Braid without screwing up. And you can too. Trust me.

How’s that for giving away the punch line in the title? I figure, might as well cut to the chase.

Waterlily finally resurfaced after a long siesta, cast aside for holiday knits and pattern development. I am not sure what inspired me to drag this poor babe out. I was itching to make a random scarf, but I told myself I had to finish old projects before I could go careening off into New-Knit land.

Self-discipline sucks.

I had left the project with the body of (twisted) stockinette complete, ready to divide for the back and front. I knew what was coming. I had been dreading this step since the first stitch. The way you dread a dentist appointment when you know you have news of a cavity coming your way.

There was no getting around it.

The Latvian Braid.

My first.

I will say this: once I finally worked up the guts to read the instructions, look at the illustrative diorama, and just think a bit, all was well. I didn’t even have to bust out You Tube. It was easy.

I actually didn’t screw the darn thing up.

As far as I know anyway.

(I am sure my email account is about to get flooded with sage commentary from knitters more talented than I who have glanced at my photo and can just tell that my Latvian Braid doesn’t look quite right.)

Well, it’s good enough for me. Nothing exploded. Nothing tangled (too much, anyway). Nobody died. No tears. No cussing.

A miracle.A Latvian Braid.

I do think the Latvian Braid looks remarkably similar (identical!) to the stitch I used in my Samoa and Best Hat Ever patterns. I know I am biased, but I strongly favor my own technique. It requires only a single strand of yarn (not two) and generally goes much quicker. I think my Latvian Braid looks a little skimpy because of the fiber (linen) and doesn’t have the benefit of blooming like the Madelinetosh DK used for my two hat designs. The pattern called for a Latvian Braid on two rows (wrong and right sides…I am not quite sure why…). My own technique just requires ONE row of tricky stitching. Better all around.

Waterlily is currently progressing at the speed of a snail with an injured foot. It too me the better part of three hours to knit five rows last night, including the Latvian Braid. I worked the first two rows of the lace pattern VERY CAREFULLY, cautious to count and set stitch markers pretty much everywhere. The third lace row got me…I won’t bore you, only to say the designer’s math was absolutely perfect after all, I am not wiser than she, and tinking back an entire row of lace takes a Really Long Time.

We will see what tonight brings.





Knitting A Perfect Hat for A Perfect Toddler

The prefect simple toddler hat.

I am shamed to say my toddler child had been zipping about in a too-small hat and was in need of a new hat with proper fit to keep his head smuggled and warm during this dreadful winter weather.

It seemed simple enough at the time.

  1. Day 1: It’s New Year’s Eve. Decide to knit needed toddler hat. Quick and easy project. Surely mother will be done by midnight.
  2. Honoring New Years resolution, scour yarn stash for the one remaining ball of yarn color appropriate for a male child, left over from holiday’s past (like, way back) when an intended Man Hat never quite got knitted. Apparently the ol’ stash leans more toward the female-colored palette. Who knew “neutrals” could be so, well, gender biased. Select singular skein if Tahkin Yarns Tara Tweed in a sort of turquoise/navy color (surprisingly soft 80% wool:20% nylon).
  3. Browse patterns on Ravelry. Quickly become overwhelmed. Decide to make one up instead.
  4. Read yarn label for stitches per inch and recommended needle size en lieu of swatching. Place child in front of the Lion King II (not age appropriate, BTW…found that out too late…) and measure child’s head. 19 inches. Decide to cast on for 20 inches, fearing a too-small hat that would defeat the entire purpose.
  5. Cast on 90 stitches and knit happily for an hour. Child goes to bed. Knit more. Three inches or so at this point. Fret a bit that the hat looks a wee bit big. What was that I read a while back about Negative Ease? Might have been important…
  6. Go to bed exhausted at 9:30. On New Year’s Eve.
  7. Day 2: Child awakes. Place in front of Dinosaur Train (PBS cartoon about dinosaurs…much more age appropriate). Set hat (still on needles) atop child’s head. Surmise, yes, it does look a bit big but surely he’ll grow into it. 
  8. Continue knitting for 30 minutes. Gut instinct is still saying The Hat Is Too Big!!!!!! Ignore gut instinct. Set project aside. Do something else. Denial is always a suitable solution.
  9. Day 3: Another episode of Dinosaur Train. Take deep breath, slip hat entirely off needles and place upon child’s head. Hat is so large it quickly slips down over the ears and onto shoulders like a cowl. Humph. Hat is also too big for mother. Not a good sign.
  10. Take note of the number of stitches that need to be reduced (18). Unravel project. Mother seriously questions overall brain function and wonders if she has forgotten to count.
  11. Day 4: Cast on the revised number of stitches. Knit for one episode of Dinosaur Train (30 minutes) and again in freezing cold afternoon outside while child digs in dirt with glee. Fingers require one hour to defrost after coming indoors. Well worth the sacrifice. As long the fingers don’t actually fall off.
  12. Continue knitting after child goes to sleep. Begin reducing at 4 inches, noting mother typically reduces an adult-sized hat at 5 inches. This makes perfect sense at the time. Again ignore gut feeling that hat seems oddly too short. Finish hat. Go to bed.
  13. Day 5: Child awakes. Full of hope and pride, place hat on child’s head (while child is distracted watching Dinosaur Train). Feeling not unlike placing crown upon a prince. Hat lands awkwardly more than an inch above the ears.
  14. Whoops.
  15. Child goes to bed. Mother unravels top of hat. Continues knitting another 1.5 inches before reducing (again!!!), plus an extra round for good measure. Then reduces, binds of final stitches. Goes to bed.
  16. Day 6:  One final fitting. At last. It fits. Now mother just needs to weave in ends. And drink wine. (Possibly tequila…)

So much for a project by New Years.

Super cute toddler hat.

Joining Ginny’s Yarn Along and reading How To Knit A Heart Back Home.

How To Attack Your Knitting With Scissors. And Live.

Step by step guide to cutting off cast-on edge with scissors. And surviving.


I can’t say that I have ever before likened myself to a brain surgeon. Or a heart surgeon. Or any kind of skilled miracle worker of the life-saving variety.

I am just not brain surgeon-smart. Or talented. (Don’t get me wrong, I know I am awesome. I knit, for goodness sake.)

But this week. I rose to new heights. Life-saving heights. It was almost as if I went to med school. Even though I didn’t.

I have been working on a new cowl. I swatched the thing first, even though it is atypical for me to be a by-the-book knitter. The swatch came out pretty dang fabulous, and I was basically doing my post-touchdown celebration dance in my head before I scored the goal (or cast on for that matter).

Because I never get ahead of myself or anything. And, yes, now I am mixing a medical analogy with a football analogy.

Bear with me.

Eventually I did cast on. But here’s the thing: I didn’t knit exactly what I swatched. I adjusted it. Just a bit. A few rows of stockinette between the garter edge and my first stitch pattern. I thought it needed more of a, uhm, transition.


The good news: my garter edge did not roll. This was my goal. Nothing irks me more in knitting than a rolling edge. Touchdown dance still on track.

Nothing can ever be so easy.

The bad news: now my cowl was folding where I added the extra rows of stockinette. I was having such a jolly time knitting along, practicing my Heisman trophy speech, that I didn’t even really notice until I was 100 meters in…Close to half way.

Time out. Lay on the field and cry. Roll into a little ball. Medic!

I knew one thing: I wasn’t going back. I had this feeling there was a way to simply undue the knitting from the cast-on edge. Fix it later. I had come so far.  I couldn’t stomach the idea of frogging the thing, fatal fold and all.

Sadly unraveling a cast on edge isn’t quite as simple as unraveling a cast off edge. The stitches lock, and you have to unpick each one.

There is not enough wine in the world to get you through that one. Unless you are more patient than I. Even so. Avoid at all costs.

Thankfully there is an alternative solution. A relatively easy and painless one, all things considered. It was scary, and it did involve cutting my knitting with scissors. (Did I mention I was knitting with a cashmere blend?) A first for me. But I did it. And I lived. If you are reading this, you can do it to.

Step 1. Lifeline.

Run a lifeline through the row of stitches you want to start at. I used a circular needle several sizes smaller than the needle I was knitting with. You could also use a piece of scrap yarn and a big needle.

Step by step guide to cutting off the cast on end of your project.

Step 2. Pray (I mean, cut).

Pray to your god(s). Cross fingers. Salt over shoulder. Take Xanax. Summon courage.

Start cutting.

Just be sure not to cut any of the stitches on your lifeline. Aim for the row below. Although here I cut two rows below because of the pattern transition, and it worked just fine.

Step by step guide to cutting cast on edge of knitting with scissors. And surviving.

Step 3. Tidy.

After cutting, you end up with lots of messy yarn bits. If you have a regular house keeper (who is someone other than you), things are looking good. Otherwise, you have to grab all those little suckers and clean up the row of live stitches left on your lifeline.

Step by step guide to cutting the cast on edge of knitting with scissors. And living to tell the tale.

Step 4: Knit on.

You should now have a clean row of live stitches. Notice there is also a new live tale on the far right. Reattach yarn, switch back to your regular needles, and you are good to go. Reknit your new cast on edge as desired.

Step by step guide to cutting your cast on edge with scissors. And living to tell the tale.

This now completes this Public Service Announcement.

New Year’s Resolutions For A Knitter (Anytime. Anywhere.)

New Year's Resolution fit for any knitter. Anytime. Anywhere.

New Years? Already?

I am in denial.

I already told you what I hope to knit this year, but I didn’t tell you how. I have resolution, knitters. Brace yourselves.

Knit the stash.

Yawn. Ya. Ya. Every knitter’s worst knitmare (not a typo). True nonetheless. I think I have enough yarn stashed away in the hall closet to get to me to my birthday at the end of April when I typically stock up for the year. Yarn stores be warned: I am not coming.

I hope.

Buy a Swift and Ball Winder

Because I have to buy something related to knitting, even if it isn’t yarn. And, seriously. Enough is enough. All this winding over the back of a chair? It’s ridiculous.

Why don’t (all!!!) yarn companies just sell their yarn pre-wound? For knitting’s sake…

Start a Knitting Group (Again)

This was my New Year’s resolution in 2012. I actually did it. For a while. Until I was too pregnant to keep hosting and organizing. Given I live in the middle of nowhere, it was quite the feat. There are more knitters in the sticks than one might think. (We are everywhere! Mwha ha ha!!!) I aim to give it another go. But not at my house.


Meditation has never been my thing. I invariably get stressed at the end of a yoga class when you lie down, close your eyes, and just are. Who has time for that?!? I just think about all the things I should be doing…dinner, dishes, laundry, yada yada. A wise friend told me I can knit and meditate. Just focus on the stitches and think of nothing else. No chores. No future knits. No problems. No dreams. Just, well, nothing. The stitch. I am going to try. It’s my only hope.

What are your New Year’s Resolutions?

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