I've been spending a fair amount of time knitting this past winter. I have a relationship with knitting akin to an old friend. There are weeks when we don't see each other and then we reconnect and it is like no time has passed. This winter I picked up the sticks in December after an entire two season absence and together we have been inseparable. It started with socks, then knucks, dish cloths for an unsuspecting friend who thought she was giving me some cotton yarn (sorry no photos) and then a long overdue scarf that I started back in 2008 that had since been frogged due to lack of motivation.
On a roll I picked up the lonely balls of hacho, found my pattern "the juan scarf" and began the simple cast on once again. Things felt different this time around, the repetitive 12 row pattern which seemed to give me so much angst two years ago was flowing so much easier. In no time I was finished and then casted on for the matching "tintiri hat". I did have to adjust the pattern slightly because I always find knitted hats a bit snug. And just in case you're wondering, my bean isn't any bigger (or smaller) than the next gals.
I dare say the ease that I've been knitting with lately is due to a renewed place of peace I've been making with the current state of chaos I live in. There are still designated work zones in my home and tools strewn about and I'm learning to live with it. It's been over 2 years now, it will be 3 in the summer since we started this renovation journey. If we were independently wealthy things would have been finished in record time, however being a stay-at-home/home-educating/part time working mum does not lend itself to wealth. Instead we've been working at what feels like a snails pace (at times), steadily tackling the jobs in the limited free days we have ~ that translates to about 2-3 days every two weeks for anyone wondering what's taking us so long.
And so here I am, end of February still with no studio to speak of or a completed home. I find myself setting work schedules and then readjusting the time frame once again to make room for things unseen: spontaneous family outings on days we should be working, lazy days of mid-winter when we feel like we just can't spend another moment working on it (the house) or planning it. The distractions are so very frequent and at the end of the day what does it matter? Life goes on right? Finding the enjoyment in today is most important, whatever that days looks like: painting, sledding, knitting. Truthfully it's a better way to live and I wish I discovered it a couple of winter's back. I hear Morpheus (from the Matrix) whispering to me: "Unfortunately, no one can be told what the {insert issue} is. You have to see it for yourself."
Much like knitting, the end (of renovating) feels so very near and at the same time so very far off... and I keep my knitting close for those many moments when I should could be working on a house project but "don't feel like it". I pick up the familiar sticks and lay a few more rows down. Some days it looks like I'll be knitting forever and then bam, I'm at the end. I suspect that is how real life works too.
