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This is a short and easy post. And it is still more than a month overdue. I enjoyed much of the month of June off, between the end of school and the beginning of work. We did lots of fun and less-fun things, like moving into a new apartment, enduring the sewage-watered flood of said apartment, and exploring (read: consistently getting lost in) our new hometown.
I knit a lot as well and finished some pretty cool projects. But this is, without question, my most important summer knitting achievement.
That's my knitting at Fenway Park at my very first Red Sox game. It didn't get knit while at Fenway, but I brought it along just in case I had a chance. I was too busy screaming like a pre-teen at Jacoby Ellsbury and drinking ONE pint of $7.25 Bud Light (there are so many things wrong with that phrase). That knitting project did eventually become this:
I love this scarf-lette cravat thing. It used yarn from one of my favorite hometown shops (String Theory Yarn). It's a great accessory for my work wardrobe. But, most importantly, it went to Fenway.
Well, my first post wasn't supposed to be my last. But the completion of my degree, graduation, the job search, and moving to a new town necessitated my retreat into survival mode, which removed all pleasantries from life including exercise, sleep, and reading, writing, or otherwise living for anything other than school.
We have now moved to our new town, and I am taking a much-deserved vacation before my job starts in July. So far, the vacation has involved more or less setting up the new apartment, failed attempts at finding a couch that is neither ugly nor expensive, and spending inordinate amounts of time with the dogs, uttering phrases like "Molly, please stop killing our umbrellas" and discovering that Murphy is a grass snob and only stands on the coffee table when he really wants your attention.
I've also managed to squeeze in some knitting and yarn shopping as well. One of my biggest accomplishments in the past few months has been the completion of a series of hats knit for a local women's shelter.
There are many names for this kind of knitting. Charity knitting, service knitting, RAKs (Random Acts of Kindness- this term doesn't only apply to knitting). But no matter what you call it, whether the recipient is anonymous or known, whether the knitting was requested or truly a surprise, I love, and often require myself, to have something on my needles that is not for me.
Why knit for others? The impetus for the hat project was to use up yarn left over from a project that failed catastrophically several years ago, leaving hundreds of small yarn balls in its wake. (There are still hundreds more of these balls of yarn, to continue to be used in smaller projects until they are gone... or until the Sun starts revolving around the Earth. You know, whichever comes first. Probably the latter.) Knitting for others also allows me to use yarn or patterns that I don't want to make for myself, but that I want to try.
There are far less practical, but far more important, reasons why I knit for others. Any kind of work for others gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling (insert debate about whether or not true altruism exists here), and being able to combine that act with a craft that I love makes it all the better.
Then again, there are just as many reasons to not knit for others. A Ravelry group called "Selfish Knitters" recounts hundreds of stories of handknit gifts being called "cheap," sold at yard sales, thrown away, and insulted. Experiences such as these could make any gift-giver want to curl into a ball and down an entire pint of ice cream with a vodka chaser. I'm lucky not to have experienced this myself- I have had wonderful friends and family that always adore, and sometimes even request, knitted work from me. I wonder, though, if an experience like that would bother me. Undoubtedly yes, but at the same time, I revel in the process of knitting and the feeling that I'm knitting for someone else. And when I'm knitting for charity, someone else gets to decide if they like my work, and I'll never know either way!
And so I continue on my quest to knit as much for others as for myself. But what about you? Gift-giving, knitting gifts for others, knitting gifts for charity. Whatcha think?
You know, that's really an excellent question. There are millions of blogs out there, and I'm about to add yet another byte-munching, time-consuming (hopefully more so for me than for you) star into the constellation. So what makes THIS blog, out of the millions, worth your time and perhaps a few of your thoughts?
I think the fact that I really want to write a blog should mean something, although what, I'm still not sure. I maintain that every single person in this universe is unique (yes, even twins), so every perspective you ever encounter is unique. By this simple equation, what I have to say should present a unique view on the world, and my concern about finding a niche market should be solved.
But will this blog be interesting? Thought-provoking? Maybe I should take a couple lofty steps back... will it even be read? Some of that's up to me, some of that's up to you. I titled this blog "Knitting and 42" because knitting has really taken on a focal point in my life. I love shopping for yarns, choosing patterns, knitting while listening to NPR podcasts, and I hope to soon dabble in the art of handpainting yarn. (I'll be perfectly honest, spinning scares the hell out of me. It looks expensive and complicated and space-consuming, and knowing me, I'd impale myself on a spindle before ever producing something usable.)
But my life, as all are, is about more than just one thing, and it's certainly not my intention to step on the toes of those who have very successfully made their blogs (and their lives!) all about knitting. In addition to being an avid knitter, I run, cook, read, and study public policy. I believe that these five activities define who I am and how I approach life, and I hope that this will yield a blog that provides insights, thoughts, stories, bits of humor... saomething of the sort... that others find worthy of a few moments of their time. And perhaps, in reference to the indefatigable Douglas Adams, an approximation of the meaning of life.
So there you have it. Consider the star launched. Next step: a second post. Hopefully before the next Superbowl. Likely not before I get my Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean yarn. And then again, what are stars really but balls of flaming gas and hot air?
