Slow Knitting

Every year when the weather turns chilly, I think about knitting. I think about how many mittens, how many scarves were knit over the years by people who wanted to keep themselves and their loved ones warm. I think about how many warm sweaters were given, out of kindness but also necessity.

I've been contemplating this on my walks to work, mostly because it's cold in the mornings and my hands are FREEZING! Yes, I could wear the pair of mittens that Ian bought me a few years ago or I could buy another pair that fits better and isn't falling apart from wearing them so often. But I don't want to.

I want to make my own. I want to feel what it is to need something I don't have and to work hard to get it.

Years ago, I was always busy, days flew by, and I valued nothing more than convenience and instant gratification. But I'm not like that anymore.

Now I take my time, I think about what I really need to live, to be happy. I walk places and shop in the neighborhood and I make things to keep me warm.

All of this takes so much time. But it's time so well spent. Walking is a great way to get exercise, to relax and to breathe fresh air. Knitting allows me to create something that fits me well and will last for a long time. The quilts on our bed will be around longer than any of us, someday they'll keep other families warm and cozy.

And it is because of this that I've been willing to suffer chilled fingers on my walks the past few mornings. I want to do this. I want to be self-sufficient, to provide for myself. When I walk to work next week and my fingers are nice and toasty, protected from the cold, I will smile and know that I have myself to thank.

I can feel the momentum building already. I now have dreams of knitting all my own sweaters and outerwear forever and ever. I'll start with a simple sweater (scary!) and see how it goes. If nothing else, a girl can never have too many ugly, lopsided pajama sweaters!