Knit For Life

Step in the way back machine. Here, let me get that door for you. It’s now 2002. We are in my mother’s living room and I’m about twenty  something….um age doesn’t really matter.  I am holding a crochet hook, a scarf I’ve no crap been working on for about 4 years and a wtf look on my face. My mother is patiently trying (for the hundredth time) to teach me how to do more than single crochet.

Fast forward 3 months and I’ve turned the scarf over to my mom to finish. She has it back to me in about 3 hours.

Fast forward again to 2014 mid summer.  I’m sitting in my mothers living room and I’m now in my thir….. you know, age isn’t really relevant to the story.  I’m holding 2 knitting needles and rectangular swatch I knitted in about 3 hours that will ultimately become a cup cozy. My mother has a wtf look on her face. I am patiently explaining to her all about the garter stitch.

Not surprisingly my mother is shocked that I’m knitting. I’m shocked that I’m knitting. All my super cool hip non-knitting friends are shocked that I’m knitting.  I’m loving it. I don’t think I’ll ever stop. I’ve caught the knitting bug and theirs no cure. And I don’t think I could tell you why.

Maybe it’s because I hate (aka not being very successful) at crochet. Maybe it’s because it challenged my mind and my hands in a unique way. Maybe its because I have a super stressful job working as a community mental health professional and I needed a coping skill that supports stress management in a healthy way, unlike drinking.  Maybe it’s because none of my friends do it and it makes me ahhh unique. Unique, yeah that sounds good. It’s most likely a couple of the above-mentioned reasons; regardless I’m a knitter for life.

(taps chest and throws up the deuces).