My grandmother attempted to teach me to knit when I was about nine years old. At that age my interests lay not in the tangles of yarn and uneven sheath which she hoped would turn into a scarf. Instead they rested in the mysteries of the cemetary behind the house, the bugs that lived under the front porch, and how far the skateboard would carry me before I fell off and broke my arm again or momentum ceased and I lay in the middle of the street waiting for the commuters to come chase me away as they returned from the concrete jungle called New York City.
Too many years had passed when I finally picked up my knitting needles again sitting on the couch in a rented mobile home two towns away trying to decide whether I was going to survive in Vermont or if returning to Connecticut was in my fate. A red and white chenile scarf poured off the needles and spent the rest of that winter keeping the brisk breezes at bay while I was out walking the dog. Since then many a gift have been knit and crocheted for people I love, others who simply ask and as gifts for friends of loved ones. This fall necessities for Little Man in the form of a hat and mittens were completed along with a birthday gift and one for a baby shower that I never got to go attend.
My days off this week will include the addition of some newly knit and crocheted items to the website to help raise a couple of dollars for the tax man and the electric company, more rows on Christmas presents for family and perhaps some time to get the roof on the rabbit shed - after all December is only a week away!
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