As I was sitting on the couch knitting the other night, I reflected on three things. First, I felt (only slightly) guilty at preparing for Christmas by doing something as enjoyable as knitting, instead of those poor people who have to shop at malls for their gifts. Steve was wrapping gifts and I was knitting. It seemed unfair somehow.
Secondly, I thought about how much joy knitting brings me. I love the fact that I can be so creative with an art that has been around for so long. Knitting connects me to the past in a way that I really appreciate.
And lastly, I love the fact that my skill level has increased to the point that there are so many options available to me that weren't when I first started out. Don't get me wrong, I loved all twenty or so scarves that I knit the first year I learned. I was proud of each and every one of those garter stitch scarves and didn't even aspire to try another knitting project.
Stef and Melissa came home yesterday, which was also my last school day until January. I wanted to stay up late and watch Toy Story 3 with them, but I was in bed by 10:00 p.m. My toothache still hasn't gone away, which is frustrating, but it has improved a little. (Or maybe I'm just getting used to it?) I've gained six pounds in three weeks and feel crappy about it. Trying to get back on the wagon, so to speak. I'm hoping to get outside and walk on the beach today, which should help my mood as well as my metabolism. And knitting. Knitting helps.
I've started this to knit in between knitting untold pairs of Toasty mitts as well as finishing up other small projects that have been languishing.
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