I was just going to tidy up a little. Nothing major. Just put a few things away and fold some things. Then all of a sudden, things went all tangential on me and my bed was covered with things I knitted or wove over the last several years.
Ohhhh, I remember making this…
And this….
The lap robe I made for Gramma Jolin…
The hat that Andi’s mother never got to wear…
My first attempts at knitting with my own handspun yarn…
I always play down my abilities, but some of these things are really lovely. It could be that I really know what I am doing. If I saw this pile of knits anywhere but my own house I would think that someone talented had been involved in the creation of these garments.
Funny how I assume that some hack did all of this until I see it all together. It’s kind of an interesting body of work really. A lot of hats, shawls, scarves. The occasional sweater or pair of gloves or socks. I can knit anything, and even make my own yarn. It is one of my few talents that might be of use in the Apocalypse. I can make sure my loved ones are warm.
Seeing all of this in a pile, I really do wonder why I don’t think I am good at it. There are things here that are beautiful. Anyone would be proud to have created some of this stuff.
Then, after admiring my work, I asked myself the hardest question: who is going to put all of this away?
Why doesn’t Squeaky Cat ever have to do chores??