I know some less hardcore knitters sometimes put the needles down in the summer because of the whole wool-in-your-lap-in-100-degree-weather thing. Not me. It is so rare for me to miss even a day. And one day I will likely die with the needles still clutched in my hands.
I love where my knitting takes me. There is, of course, Monhegan Island, where a number of you will be joining Lisa and me and the rest of the crew in September. And I also often use knit shops to get my bearings in a new city when I am traveling, whether it's around the US or around the world.
But I also like where knitting takes me even when I'm right at home. And by this I mean where it takes me emotionally. Knitting always calms me down. Heck, just the sight of yarn calms me down (even as it excites me). I keep one of those three-tiered hanging fruit baskets above my bed that's full of mighty fine yarn just so I can see it first thing in the morning and last thing at night.
This week, my knitting is taking me to a super special place. A friend of mine who is too ill to knit these days is eagerly awaiting an imminent grandchild. She really wants a Christmas stocking to match the stockings of this about-to-be baby's siblings. So she asked me if I was up to the task. And-- I love this part especially-- she acknowledged she understood a big part of the challenge is that I am, to understate the matter, not at all a Christmas person. Honestly, I do everything I can to avoid the day.
But here we are-- and as I write this it is the 25th so officially Christmas in July-- and I am working it hard over here, hoping to get this holiday item knocked out quickly, cracking up at the irony that I, ever the Grinch, even agreed to it. I've got a nice long plane ride tomorrow which should allow me to make it to the heel. I'm hoping to turn that and get the gusset going during a whirlwind trip to NYC. And if I'm lucky I'll knock out the toe on the flight home.
I hope whatever you're working on is fun, lightweight, fast, and summery. You know-- something that isn't turning you, personally, into a heavy sweater.
Ho Ho Ho,
See ya soon,
Spike
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