making things


So, yeah, there's a lot going on these days what with the end of school and A REALLY BIG TRIP looming, so it seemed like a good idea to show those of you who do lurk around the place that I DO make things. As I've said before, I haven't been good at all about documenting the things I've knit or sewn. Part of the reason I started this whole blog thing wsa to document not just the sundries of my daily life (oh so interesting...), but my crafting life as well.


I started knitting about three falls ago when I wanted to make scarves for Callum's teachers. They were awful, but the process clearly wasn't. My friend Sarah had been knitting for years, and I'd never understood the appeal. I'm not entirely sure what turned me onto it in the first place, but after those three miserable scarves (you know, dropped stitches, uneven tension, odd increases and decreases, crappy yarn) I was hooked. Or...what? Stuck?


I really thought I would be content to knit scarves forever (and I do still love having lots of scarves...), until Megan bullied me into knitting socks (thanks, Megan!). Suddenly a whole new world opened up. Projects...graphs...patterns. A sock here and there (and how satisfying to actually wear something that you made), some sweater ornaments and some mittens, a beaded bracelet and some wristlets. Oh, and hats and washcloths and bags. But I still wasn't brave enough to try an actual article of a sweater.


Then my whole neighborhood started turning up pregnant. I love these women, and felt that they needed and deserved more than my requisite baby hat and booties. So perhaps, just perhaps I could manage a sweater if it was on a newborn scale. Ahhh...another obsession born. (So to speak.)


Eliott first (he got the green with the seed-stitch heart), then Mackenzie. A little girl needs some pink and brown, don't you think? I swear, if I could, I'd have one of these swingy little sweater coats just for me. What loveliness. Even if I do say so myself. I get it now, the desire for something a bit more complex. The desire to dig deep into a pattern and come out wearing something. Stuck, that's me.