Knitting leaves a lot of headspace for rumination. I like to chew on a problem, which is sometimes a bad thing—worrying, as your granny surely told you, doesn’t help anything—but is also sometimes a good thing, because it can help me get to the bottom of things. My life is a very quiet one these days, with my littles no longer little and the house mostly empty and still. I walk through the orchard to the pond, and the only thing I hear is my own footsteps, crunching on the frozen ground. I spend a lot of time beside the fire, alongside the ever-snoring catdog, and there are very few distractions. She stretches and yawns, shifts. I shift, too, maybe turn the page, maybe turn to work a wrong-side row. The wind hurtles across the open fields and between the bare fruit trees, and whistles through the windows of our old house, lonely and spooky, and cozy, too.
I’m still chewing on the question of Making vs. Stuff. This has been one of my inner monologues for a few years, and I don’t know whether I’m getting closer to solving it or not, but it is a tough piece of gristle and I’m still gnawing. I am driven—yes, DRIVEN—to make things, but at the same time, I am also compelled to keep a lid on the amount of things I carry around with me in this life. I have made so many quilts and blankets and bags and pillow covers and lampshades and various bits of household ornamentation that I simply do not need to do that anymore. Making things results in having things, and really, I truly do not need—nor do I actually want—to have more things. I am not at all sure that anybody else really wants the things I’ve made, either. If you could see how I have overloaded my family with handknits, good grief. I actually feel some guilt about it. Do you guys want any of these? I say, when they visit. How can they say no? How are they even supposed to choose just one and leave the rest, as maybe some kind of sad signal that my work and effort has little value? I hope they don’t feel like they have to keep it all until I’m dead—guys, if you’re reading this, you don’t have to keep all those hats and blankets! Donate, recycle, make a cat bed out of them! Leave them on the train. I mean it. None of it is precious. Sigh. How did crocheting a blanket become such a fraught endeavor? Many is the project that has ground to a halt lately as the question arises: what am I going to do with that when it’s done?
I knit sweaters now, because I can still find a home for those that no longer have a place in my wardrobe, and because yarn is reusable, and because I live in a cold climate where for most of the year the weather is not that great. There is still a need for sweaters in my life. When the shelf gets too full, I pass some of them along, and because they are just clothes, they don’t need to feel impossibly precious to my descendants. They keep the wind off me, they help me figure out how I want the world to see me. They fill my creative space. There is an abundance of them in my life; possibly I own a ridiculous amount of handknit sweaters. An honest tally of my works-in-progress reveals five half-knit sweaters on the needles right now, and so many more still waiting to be started. I add to my yarn stash on the regular. I make things, and right now, this is what I am making.
My dad would have prefaced all that by saying, “More than you wanted to know...” but I really do want to know. So as a maker of handknit garments at the moment, I have made another something to add to the pile: this is a little jacket/cardigan knit with no pattern, using my remnants of fingering weight yarns, held double in hopes of a blended effect, much inspired by this project knit by Clare Shaw, and also with some elements inspired by the Golden Wheat cardigan by Veera Valimaki (which I am also knitting at the moment, and which is almost finished now, too.) The buttons came from the stash, too, and were probably thrifted. As I was sewing in the [many jillions of] ends, Doc said, “Sometimes it amazes me how you can take nothing and turn it into something.” I made this with castoffs and leftovers. That feels pretty good.