Monday, May 16, 2011

You can't escape it!

So my friend Glenda mentioned to me that it's not WE who take a hiatus from knitting, it's that KNITTING wants nothing to do with us every now and then and takes a break. (paraphrased).  With that in mind I did wonder if I could ever live without knitting, now that I know what it is and how it (positively) impacts me.
I've learned a lot from knitting and from the process and from my friends that I met due to knitting.  But no, that isn't what I want to talk about.
What I want to talk about is how knitting has ACTUALLY inflitrated my home and my life and how even if I wanted to, I couldn't get away from it.
A day in the life of me, as it relates how much my knitting has 'spread out'.
In my pocket today I found a stitch marker.  It's there because I took it off a shawl I made at work and put it in my pocket.  I took it out of my pocket and placed it on my desk.  Next to a small remnant ball of Schopel Wolle Zauberball that has been sitting on my computer monitor stand because I cast off a shawl here at work one day.  It's been here so long that we actually moved 12 blocks away to a different location and it got packed up and put back out when I unpacked.
Behind me on the table is my Alpaca Tarp.  I brought it because I like to have something to work on at lunch time.
My bulletin board is home to a small pin that my friend got me depicting a small skeleton knitting up a ball of yarn.
In my car is my California Sunset shawl because I keep forgetting to bring it in.  Behind the driver's side seat is a paper starbucks bag with my ill fated Sundara Shetland Shawl in it.
Today when you walk in the door, there are three blocking mats immediately in front of you as you walk in, on which is layed out my newest shawl. To the left is my knitting area, which is covered from top to bottom in bits and pieces and skeins and remnants and needles and cables.  I try and keep it tidy but it's a daily task!
The kitchen island holds it's share of product tags and tiny snips of yarn from trimming ends and unwinding skeins.
The living room has a large red ottoman tray on the coffee table (we used to have an upholstered otto). It's like an extension of the knitting area.  It has markers and cables and bits and bobs... patterns and remnants of yarn, the needle guage, sheepy tape measure and a knitpicks cable key.
On the back of the sofa sits my sock monkey, who currently is wrapped in a shawl.  Five days ago he was sort of protecting the sweater that I started, which was wedged between the back of the sofa and the cushions.  In that same location I found a half completed (TOTALLY RIDICULOUS) thrummed mitten.
There's a shawl pin (or two) on the bathroom counter and stitch markers on the armoire in the living room. The ear of a dragon in progress sits atop the armoire while the dragon's head bobs around in a bowl of more bits and bobs on the coffee table in the knitting area.
In the bedroom there's a teal blue Ishbel behaving for the moment as a kitty blanket and a green Haruni in the night stand drawer.
Under the covers you'd find a well loved wool/mohair hotwater bottle cover.
All this might sound like a huge mess, but really, it's not.  It's just that I realized last night (the whole 'shawl in the night stand thing') that knitting is a part of who I am now. It's a part of the fabric (please excuse that horrid pun!) of what makes me me... unique, quirky and passionate.
Do you have a similar picture to paint?


Glenda said...

Actually, I think my suggestion was more to the effect that Knitting owns you, so you can't get away from it until it lets you - which is never. :) Bu then you seem to have recognized that given how much it has infiltrated your life and apartment! :)