Eating My Words...or at least my thoughts

During my blogless year, I continued to create many entries in my head. They were well-written, thought-provoking, and witty. In my mind's eye, the accompanying photos were worthy of publication in National Geographic, or at least on msnbc.com's Photo of the Week. One of those posts was going to be a hilarious farewell to Homespun. Here is the Readers Digest/brownie camera version:

I had a box (and more) that I slogged through making Prayer Shawls- they were well intended and knit with love, but the yarn does have a reputation. I vowed to find a gentler, kinder yarn for the next obsession with shawls.

On the last Sunday in Epiphany, I had one. After the Shrove Tuesday Oyster Roast, Ash Wednesday and Lent would be here. Mind, body, and soul needed to be transformed and transfigured (thanks, Jennifer!) I needed to hurry up and decide what I was going to "give up" and "take on" for Lent! Guess what entered my mind, confused my soul, and sent my body to Michael's:

To knit mindfully and prayerfully every day is part of my Lenten discipline.

Darn knit

While uncovering piles of projects that have been covering my floor, I found this: my first holey sock.


It's amazing how we joyfully crank out items that have a limited shelf life! There is something paradoxical about creating something that will not last. I marvel at those builders of sandcastles and crab houses, those sculptures that are guaranteed to disappear when the tide comes in. I marvel at those chefs, who create not only a sumptuous meal but who also present it as a piece of art...only to become a tasteful memory. Sure, things can be created to last a long, long time and can be enjoyed by many, many generations. But we knitters know that precious few knitted items have survived the centuries. (Maybe some of our acrylic/polyester projects of the 70's and 80's will stand the test of time!!)

I have discovered that I am a process rather than a project knitter. I knit because I like to knit. I do not need hand-knit socks. I do not need to give all my friends scarves, fingerless mitts, or dishcloths. Those items are just happy results of my doing something that soothes my soul.

I am not, however, ready to give up on the sock. I also found this:












This china darning egg belonged either to Mom or my grandmother. It is a gentle reminder that sometimes we may think something is no longer good or useful. New sandcastles are made when the tide goes out; new meals are prepared when we get hungry again.

But old socks can be mended...at least a couple of times!

There probably are several other messages in these ramblings that I should take to heart..