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Riding a Bike

I used to knit any time I was still.  Thinking about complicated cables is how I went to sleep during rough nights.  I’d fondle yarn at my local yarn store.  I mastered lace knitting and breastfeeding.  I’d see a pattern and have to start it.  I’d start it, hate it, rip it, and look for a new pattern.  No regrets.  I was moving on to a new fiber love.  For years, you’d find a half-finished sock in my purse.  If your car was stuck next to mine in a traffic jam, you might have seen me knitting on it.  My husband used to think my knitting was a problem.  I was always occupied with a project as we watched tv.  I thought I was paying attention to him, the program, and my project.  He’d argue that I was zoned out on the knitting.  He might be right.  Might…  I’d read blogs by people who used to knit and think clearly they didn’t love it as much as I did.  Why would I ever quit?

And one day I did.  I don’t even know why or when.  A project didn’t get the best of me, I just quit and didn’t start another one.  For a while I’d still browsed the knitting books at the bookstore.  And one day, it was the last place I looked and sometimes I never did.  I still carried a sock with me, but worked on it a little less each week.  Until one day, it was taking up space and made my purse heavy.  I just stopped.

This weekend I had my sister go through my yarn stash.  Whatever she didn’t want was going to Goodwill.  That’s a lie.  I’ve saved three skeins for sentimental reasons.  One day, I’ll use them.  When she came up with her haul, she reminded me that I had this yarn in a sock weight.  We’re camping soon and I want something to keep me busy.  I thought about starting a sock.  Easy.  Requires no attention.  But I pulled out two differently colored socks and I had no desire to have a third unfinished pair of socks.  Noro known for its beautiful and uncommon color combos.  The self-striping effect makes it a good choice for a simple design.  This little number (non-Rav link)  has been in my Ravelry Favorites for years.  The ric rac design reminds me of my Grandmother’s afghans.  On Sunday, I decided to give knitting a chance.  Casting on felt like hugging an old friends.  The purls and knits formed as easily as my steps to the bathroom in the night.  Knitting is like riding a bike. For the time being I’m happy that I decided to jump back on.

 

 

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