Merry Christmas?

It’s the most miserable time of the year…

Yes, I know those aren’t the right lyrics, but for me this year, they're mostly the truth.

You see, for me, Christmas is all about having family around and giving. And this year, I had only half my family and not much to give. And msot of what I did give, I had to send through the postal service. As of the day after Christmas, those gifts haven't arrived. Irreplaceable, handmade things. One of a kind earrings from an independent website. The joy of her receiving a box of things made, wrapped, and packed with love.

Gone. Like a fart in the wind.

No Christmas tree this year because I lost the Christmas spirit back in November when my furthest flung child and I realized that neither one of us had the funds for a plane ticket, and it was stressing us both out, so I told her if it would make things easier on her, she could stay where she was this year. I wouldn’t like it, but I would understand. I wish now that I hadn’t gone to visit her in October; we could have used that money to bring her home for Christmas. But hindsight’s 20/20, right? So to perk myself up, I thought OK, maybe just a small tree that would fit on he table. By the time I went shopping for the small tree I wanted (and had seen ina few places), everywhere I'd seen them was out of them, there wasn’t a Norfolk Island Pine to be had, and I ended up with an ornamental pepper bush that I decorated with lights and garland I bought in the dollar store. It’s amusing. But losing leaves like it’s its job.

So anyhow, being damn near flat broke but in possession of an awful lot of yarn, I asked the kids if I were to make them something for Christmas, would they want it for their hands, head or neck? Girl-child asked for a cowl. One she could wrap double, please. She chose the yarn via a few texted photos and I made her a beautiful, light but warm wool cowl. In time to mail for Christmas. It’s lost in the mail.

Girl child lives in Colorado, so earlier this year, on sale for a price I couldn't pass up, I bought her 3 pair of over-the-knee socks in cute prints to help keep her warm. Well in time to mail for Christmas. They’re lost in the mail.

She called to tell me, a couple weeks ago, that she’d lost her last felted wool dryer ball. A shepherd friend of mine sent me roving to make her some, as long as I’d pay for the roving in dryer balls. DONE. In time for mail for Christmas. They’re lost in the mail. (The shepherd’s arrived in VT, according to tracking.)

Girl-child has gauged ears. She can slide a #2 pencil through the holes in her ears. I’m not a fan, but there are some really gorgeous “plugs” out there for gauged ears. I found an awesome pair from a vendor on Etsy – one of a kind – and bought them. In time to mail for Christmas. They’re lost in the mail.

In answer to “what would you like me to make you for Christmas,” boy-child asked for socks. Preferably knee length, to wear in his boots. (head, hands or neck???) After dogging him for weeks to get his measurements, I started with a basic sock. He texted me the measurements 4” in. It was going to be too tight. Rip…rip…rip… Begin again, more stitches. Add decreases so he doesn’t have elephant ankles. Use “standard” measurement for foot length. Finish, annnnnnnnnnnd…………hold. Until he can try it on when he gets here Christmas Day, because I am NOT ripping out 2 whole socks. (It fit perfectly, so must begin #2 soon.) He also got a bottle of the rye he prefers. In the economy size because it was the last bottle in the liquor store. It made him laugh. I figured it might, but go big or go home, right?

My fiance’ and I did not exchange gifts this year, because reasons. Mostly money reasons. It’s OK – sort of. I bought him a custom t-shirt that won’t arrive until after Christmas. He bought me my favorite scented lotion (Twisted Peppermint) from Bath & Body Works that won’t arrive until after Christmas. We’re even.

Christmas Day itself was quiet. We watched TV and movies, and I went to the train station to pick up the boy-child, who arrived late in the afternoon. It is SO good to have him home! We’ll get to spend a couple days together before he has to go back. He and I are going to a museum on Monday, and I think it’ll be the first time just he and I have spent a day together in YEARS. I’m very much looking forward to it!

Dinner was excellent - ham, pierogies, corn, pumpkin pie. Perfect! Coffee with Irish Crem liqueur (sp??) in it for days! Snack tray with cheese, ring bologna and papper jellies (thanks, boy-child), and cinnamon rolls for breakfast. I'm planning on cooking a big breakfast on Saturday. It's going to be great!

I got to spend the rest of Christmas day knitting – I’m making matching squirrel hats for my (nutty – HA!) brother and his wife, who collect squirrels. I’m finished one, halfway finished the second. I have no idea how to ship them, because I don’t want this paragraph to end like most of the others in this post – lost in the mail. Brother’s birthday is January 2, so I am hoping to get these in the postal stream by the 30th. I’m not sure why I would trust them again, but what’s the alternative?

So there you have it. Probably one of the least joyful Christmases I’ve ever experienced, overall not horrible. Except for girl-child’s package.

In case you missed it, it’s lost in the mail.

Alone in the Crowd

It's taking me a long time, but I am learning, albeit slowly, that what other people think of how I spend my time isn’t important. Although I’m still at the phase that makes that sentence read “what other people think shouldn’t be important.”

It’s never been more clear to me how much I seek other people’s approval than when I tell people what I’m doing this weekend. The conversation goes like this:

Them: You have plans for the weekend?

Me: Yes, I’ll be in Cambridge, Massachusetts on Friday and Saturday.

Them: Oh, really? What for?

(here’s where it gets awkward, at least for me)

Me: I’m going to a lecture by one of my absolute favorite knitwear designers on Friday night, and I’m taking one of his classes on Saturday morning.

Them: Do what? A lecture? By a knitwear designer? I didn’t realize you were that into it.

Me, blushing and embarrassed: Yeah, he’s a kind of a rockstar in the knitting world. His designs are amazing and he’s funny and cultured and stylish. I follow him on all the social media. I can’t wait to knit one of his designs, and…

There’s more. But by now, my conversation partner has usually tuned out.

Why does this happen? Because most of the people I talk to are non-knitters. To them, knitting is just a thing their grandma/great aunt/old lady neighbor does/did. After that comes the “Oh, I wish I had time for that.”

“You DO!” I’ll insist. How often are you sitting in a doctor’s office waiting? Or at the mechanic? How long do you sit watching TV at night?”

They chuckle, caught out in sort of a lie and agree that while they do have the time, they “don’t have the patience to learn.” Well, that I can’t help you with. Sorry. It does take some time. And your first pieces are certainly NOT going to be works of art. And yes, you can buy socks more cheaply in Target. But that said…

Yarn craft is my life. I learned to crochet first because I couldn’t manage the two needles that knitting requires. I wasn’t coordinated enough or something. Whatever it was, it was frustrating and the end results were horrible, holey mockeries of what I’d intended them to be. Your hobby should be fun, right? This wasn’t fun of any kind. And it most certainly was NOT relaxing. So crochet it was. Chain stitches. Single crochet. Then double. The dreaded trebles. Acres and acres of plain scarves with no pattern, no life, no “oomph” in them. So I moved on to intermediate patterns. Cluster stitches. Fans. Shells. Next, the front and back posts that made cables. Crochet in the round. I made beautiful finished objects. Hats. Mittens. A sweater for a friend’s unborn son. A stuffed toy for another’s new baby. Small stuffed animals for my daughter, who although a teenager, was enamored of them. I was prolific.

My yarn stash grew. I attended Stitches East. I bought expensive yarn – silk blends, merino wool, cormo. I was asked why, as a crocheter, would I want such things? Shouldn’t I be finding the Red Heart and Lion Brand booths? I proudly stood up to say that crocheters loved beautiful yarns, too! I happen to love natural animal fibers – soft, silky alpaca; gorgeous, lofty cormo; smooth, slippery mohair; sleek merino. High end yarn wasn’t merely a privilege of the knitter, was it? If you don’t like to knit in acrylic, why should I like to crochet in it, I wanted to know. (I didn’t make many friends there.)

I admired beautiful knitted pieces. There weren’t any crocheted pieces at Stitches. I took 2 knitting classes and still found myself ridiculously unable to manage the needles and the yarn at the same time. Especially when it came to socks and the 5 needles needed to knit in the round. Four to hold the work and one to knit with. Oh, the agony of twisted and dropped stitches when arranging the cast on across all those needles! I went home with lovely, lovely yarn, visions of gorgeous knitwear, a sense of total failure as a knitter, and the knowledge that even though one can crochet socks, it’s just not the same.

Eventually, a local woman offered a sock knitting class. Up close and personal, for the rank beginner. I took it. I learned to cast on 64 stitches across 4 needles, and how to knit them so they didn’t have huge gaping holes in the corners and didn’t twist out of my hands when I transitioned from one needle to the next. I was DOING it! I was knitting socks!

I made 2 pair. On the first, I misremembered how much foot to knit before starting the toe. Someone helped me kitchener stitch the toes, and now I have a pair in which only one sock fits. I began my second pair. Self-striping yarn – what fun!!! I confidently finished the first sock and stitched the toe closed…sideways. The seam goes over the top and under the bottom instead of from side to side like a sock should. I haven’t finished the second one yet and it’s been years. 5 at least. I did make one pair of ankle socks for my daughter that are the same length and have perfect toes. She’s never worn them because they’re “too nice.” I’ve decided socks aren’t my thing and moved on.

I still knit and I still crochet. I’m “bi-craftual” or “Bi-stitchual”, if you prefer. I am faster and better at crochet because I’ve done it longer. (Better enough that I teach it at a local craft store.) But I’ve made some beautiful knitted items. Hats. A shawl. A few cowls. I have 2 pair of mittens (one mitten finished from each pair) in colorwork on the needles. (The kids *might* get them this year.) I’ve made things that I’ve given away that have been much appreciated. My yarn stash has grown to the point where I’ve achieved SABLE (Stash Acquisition Beyond Life Expectancy). I plan my vacation time around farm shearing days and visits. I spend whole weekends at fiber festivals – Maryland Sheep and Wool. Rhinebeck (also known as NY Sheep and Wool). I attend in-person meetups with people whom I’ve only ever “spoken to” online via the 4,000,000 member fibercraft site called Ravelry.

Together, we take over small towns and drool over spinning wheels, carders, smooshy yarn in all fibers. Notions cases, baskets, bottles of local wine and maple cotton candy. Fleece, roving, locks, crimp – these things all mean something to us. We are in our element, and suddenly, I’m not alone in the crowd anymore. Conversations about wool, patterns, needles, brands of spinning wheels, hooks or needles are all met with respect and understanding. It’s like being home. It’s a hive mind, and it’s amazing.

So when you see me in public with a hook or a set of needles attached to a ball of yarn, don’t be surprised. If I’m not at work, I’m usually somewhere knitting or crocheting. I’m not embarrassed to ply (see what I did there?) my craft in public, and I love to attend spinning demonstrations where I can show others the magic of making fluff into yarn. Yep – I do that too, because knitting and crocheting wasn’t weird enough.

Look at it this way – come the zombie apocalypse, I have a skill that makes me useful.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.