Knitting by Blind Faith

There once was the hat from ***
That most knitters knit very well,
Except for one knitter
Who took to it scissors,
And into the trash can it fell.

Okay, so I didn’t cut up the hat, but after one final mistake, duly accompanied by a break in my sanity, I learned a lesson the hard way: Some patterns just don’t want to be knit. Add to that that I woke up Saturday morning to a pile of brand new wool (I hadn’t even taken the ball band off yet) strewn all over the living room, and a full fledged nervous breakdown was in the works. The cat, Independence, came over to see what was wrong, and I waved the freshly untangled and rewound ball in her face and screamed, “You did this!”

She took off in a run–I was pretty scary just then–and I *again* swore off knitting forever. I honestly meant it this time–really, I did.

And yet, while grieving the loss of so many hours accomplishing absolutely nothing, I started to feel that familiar twitch in my hands. Do you know what I’m talking about? It’s that longing for the yarn and the needles, and the hypnotic motion of pulling loops through loops. If I gave up knitting, what would my hands do while I watched television or read a book? How would I fill the endless 30-minute lunch break at work? What would I do to calm myself when I got upset?

Well, I figured I would just knit one more hat. In fact, it’s almost finished. Then, I will find another hobby, one that does not threaten my sanity.

Oh, but I have to finish that afghan I have on the needles (I have SO neglected it lately; it’s feelings are hurt). And I have to knit RAM’s felted booties, because I already bought the wool, you see, and since Independence destroyed the ball band, and Abigail wound it into a center-pull ball for me, I can’t exactly take it back…

I do *not* have a knitting problem!!!!!!!