Knitting: September 2008 Archives

I don't quite know what to say about the last few days. It's one of those times when there's so much going on, both internally and externally, that I am at a loss. When I don't know what to think, I generally don't know what to say.

There's also the fact that much of what is going on is excruciatingly personal.

My legs felt the need for a rest, so I stayed at home, off the bikes, knitting and working, and IMing with a friend. She had good advice, and I fear it was one of those conversations where I took more than I gave back, and I hope to rebalance the equation at some point soonish.

I am changing so fast this year that I sometimes wonder what I will uncover about myself next. On the whole, it's a good process, even if the roads are occasionally bumpy.

Sometimes the bumps involve other people, and I falter and lose my way, and wonder what the hell I am doing in this part of the woods, and whether it's time to ditch this metaphor and look for something less mangled.

I had a weird weekend, with one thing and another. Some sad things. Some hopeful things. It left me feeling tired, and quite a bit confused. Mostly about what I want. Both of the people I talked to about it today kept asking me what I want. What do I want? I have very little solid idea.

Ultimately, of course, I'd like to feel happy and whole in my own skin.

I am not at all sure whether that means having a partner hanging out with me, touching that skin on occasion. I just don't know. I have certainly been wishing for some element of that, but every time I get close to thinking about getting close, it's too too close, and I just close up like a crab. A hermit crab.

My hair feels too long.

I made soup.

I'm always hungry.

I'm knitting some beautiful gloves for Special J. They feel soft and look subtle.

I danced around the apartment a little. I listened to Parliament on the train. I huddled on the couch like a little old lady, knitting away on toothpicky dpns. Somewhere, maybe, there is a man who'd be delighted by me, who is feeling lonely and working on his hobby, whatever that is, and thinking he's not sure what he wants from life, either. Maybe.

(I am thinking of no one in particular, mind you.)

Oh, fall! How you make me suddenly yearn for that which I've been avoiding lo these many months - entanglement. Something more than pure recreation. In short, someone yummy to snuggle up with.

How you make the cat suddenly want to spend all her time curled up in the little treehouse I built for her (yes, I am a very nice witch to my little familiar). How you send the cold rain against the windows like soft percussion. How you make me glad I have Gore-Tex. How you turn metal grates and manhole covers into sheets of glass in the streets.

How you make me hear Phil Liggett's voice in my head narrating as I pick my way carefully between road hazards on the wet, rutted, slidey pavement.

How you send me running for the all-Malabrigo diet. Today's helping, pictured above:

At bottom, merino worsted in Tortuga. (Yes, the colour name had a bit to do with my purchase of it.)
Directly above that, merino & silk (!), in Smoke, slated to be long fingerless mittens for Special J, because she needs cheering up.
To the right, on the needles (now off them and soaking in Kookaburra), a birthday neckwarmer for another friend in merino worsted, Azul Profundo.

I was a bit blue earlier, feeling a distinct lack of snuggling and other boy-requiring pursuits, but a certain redhead managed to take my mind off it by flirting up a storm with me whilst adjusting this and that on my bike. Made me feel better, even though it was just talk and will only ever be talk, with him. Thanks, sweetie. I needed that.

Occasionally I envy the folks who live in beautiful Mediterranean climates, who get dry, sunny air year-round and can lie on the beach in December if they have a fancy to. But not in the fall. In the fall I love the hush that comes over everything, the way the world seems to hold its breath for a moment while the weather changes from soggy to crisp, and the night air chills the house, and the cat and I both begin to sniff the air for the smell of curling leaves.

I want apples, and I want them now.

I want to pluck them off a curving branch, beneath a blinding sun that's turning the leaves into jade. Today I went so far as to hallucinate myself a batch of apples in a city garden. but of course they were just red plastic lanterns strung on a branch.

Perhaps this weekend I can find a little bit of forest. I heard tell of one you can ride to, if you have the legs for it. I'm going to pack lots of snacks. And a map. And a little compass, just in case.

I also want wool, another sure sign of fall. Just when I begin to wonder if I'll ever have the urge to knit again, if that stash will have to be auctioned off upon my death, I suddenly find that I'm knitting hats for friends. Or little neckwarmers for biking. Or mittens. Or that drop-stitch scarf from Shannon's blue yarn.

Clickety click. Only that's not quite the sound, since the needles are wood and therefore a little quieter. I like that sound. It's subdued and homey. I wish I could teach Kitwich to knit, so I could listen to it properly.

That's all there is to tell, really. The bike rides were beautiful today, and a huge orange half-moon hung in the sky as I pedaled home tonight. No boys to speak of, but it's only Friday...

What in the world is this?

a) A Dr. Seuss book come to life on my coffee table.
b) Something the cat threw up.
c) Yards and yards of KnitPicks Merino Style Butternut knitting itself into a very long constrictor-style snake, the better to strangle me while I sleep because I still haven't finished knitting that hoodie for my friend.
d) Bounty from an outdoor retailer who screwed up and sent me six pairs of bright orange ski socks instead of the 2 I'd ordered, and yet only charged me for what I'd ordered.

All of the above, really.

Hi y'all. I'm having rather a good day, and not just because of the sockly bonus.

I'm not sure what it is. Could be that I just made myself some coffee (yes, at 6pm. I caved. I totally caved). Could be that I've spent a nice day in my house, hangin' with my cool cat (she'd prefer that I spelled it kool kat, but I just kan't).

Could be that there are days when I realize that it's grrrreeeeat to be a freelancer. Usually those days entail having some new work drop in your lap, which it potentially has. Potentially. Must not anger the fates.

Could be that I spent a certain amount of time listening to Duke Ellington and dancing like a mad fool (pre-caffeine, even) in my apt. I have yet to find an office job where that kind of thing is encouraged.

Could be that I said no to a date I didn't feel like going on today. I'd be happy to go on it another day, when it wasn't raining, and I didn't have to work late, and I said as much, but he of course got bent out of shape about it, and I thought, who the hell cares? I don't even know you. Sheesh.

Could be that I am still a little high from kissing my favorite now-you-see-him, now-you-don't blonde boy. That was a couple of days ago, and at the time, I'd thought, hmmmn. Maybe I am not attracted to him anymore. And then he kissed me. Boom. Of course I'm still attracted to him.

A friend was asking, long ago, in the beginning of the thing, when I was walking around like someone had lit me on fire, What the hell is it? Is it his looks?

Well, yes and no. He's a bit of alright. But it's not that.

Is it his personality? 'Cause you keep saying you don't really have much in common with him.

Yeah, I don't. And I don't give a good god damn.

I have one thing in common with him. Magic.

I couldn't articulate that at the time, and I couldn't explain it, and I stopped trying. But now I know.

It's just fucking magic. I think, oh no big deal, and then he touches any part of my body, and I'm toast. Awesome. Love it. Please sir, may I have some more?

Anyway, that wasn't what I'd intended to write about. It just slipped out.

Of course, all I was going to tell you was a) look at all those socks. b) hey, look - I've been knitting.

I know, it's weird, me having knitting to show you, or even giving a damn about anyone else's knitting. Okay, that last bit is not true. I love seeing my friends' knitting; they do beautiful knitting. But I, I am a lame knitter, and I just don't care to be anything but. I appreciate the raw materials, and I kinda like having something to do with my hands in winter, and it's nice to have an endless supply of little hats to go under my bicycle helmet and ward off hypothermia, and all. But it's just not the big big obsession it once was. And it was only even approaching that because I had been living under a rock with an alcoholic boyfriend and a quantity of cats and nothing else to do all that long long wet snowy winter except make myself more and more and more sweaters.

Okay, where was I?

Oh yes. Knitted blue thing.

Shannon, that yarn is really just so nice that it somehow got me over my summer knitting repellance and made me start making it into something.

A simple drop-stitch scarf is what it'll be, and I know that's like elementary schoolgirl knitting, but I like it, and I picture it as that, so there you go.

Yeah, yeah, I probably need to cut back on the caffeine.