In the early morning darkness...
Disappointment at not snoozing was eating at me, I really wanted to sleep in. I know I will regret it later today. That new yarn I wrote about, had captured my attention a little too strongly. While watching a bit of television with the girls (who decided to come visit their Dad), I decided to cast on. I wanted to feel that 100% baby alpaca yarn wrapped around my fingers. It's so soft, so warm, I just couldn't resist it. I believe that I have freely admitted to multiple addictions... coffee, fiber, fabric, wood, paint... yeah you get the picture.
I just kept wanting to see a bit more of the pattern emerge. Mesmerized by the colors coming together. I must be in a blue/white/red/burgundy mood... as I seem to be purchasing many things in those color schemes. I don't care, those are going to be gorgeous mitts and I will do the other set reversed. That way they will match my pretty red/black winter coat that I completely love. Each row was showing itself with more and more of the pattern and color blending. This set is in ecru/burgundy tweeds. I like. Not sure I love, but I really like. We will see. The softness will win me over, I know it will.
For the first time I feel selfish with my knitting. I want to make something for others - always. But for some reason, I hardly ever make for me. And now, I finally feel the need to make for me. Hubs started to suggest I make the girls mittens. I am not sure that will happen.
I have made them many things over the years. Socks, sweaters, hats, wristers, quilts, afghans, etc... and they have kept and cherished none of it. I am not feeling a need to make things that will not be wanted and cherished anymore. I am not picking nor being negative. They are young, I am an old soul. To me the greatest gift you could give me is something you put your heart and time into making for me. In my heart those were awesome gifts, the kind I loved to receive from my grandmothers and great grandmother when I was young. Then again, like I said I am an old soul. I still believe in hope chests and tradition. You can't buy me happiness. The greatest treasures are homemade.
I am proud of myself. I haven't even picked up my knitting. I want to. I keep looking over, and then I force myself to look away. Christmas must be tucked away. The house must be cleaned. The bills must be paid. The critters need their spaces cleaned. And then, only then will I allow myself to put a few more rows. Only then will I get lost in the beauty that is emerging. The mind numbing peace of knit, throw, knit, pick... the rhythm making me feel such a deep connection with the past.
How will you spend your Sunday?