Don't worry, though. I'm still as busy as the rest of the world. I've been writing plays, rehearsing plays, marking plays, and begin auditioning for plays tomorrow. My life is about plays.
Shari and I had an official knitting lesson from Jackie last week. I opted for a project that doesn't require a pair. That way, once I finish making my hat, it's finished. I don't have to start all over and that simply increases the chances that I'll complete it.
There's something to this knitting thing. I know why Jackie "gets her knit on" during times of stress and why Ruthie has been encouraging me for years. One can chat while knitting (unlike the anti-social hobby of writing or reading) and at the same time, produce a home-made item that's good for the soul. So, rather than sit around with friends and talk about our worries/fears/problems, we kind of work them away. We might talk about the dark side but our hands are busy so somehow it's cleansing. I find that, at the end of the day during this long and emotional week, knitting gives me solace.
Writing gives me escape.
Knitting grounds me.
But I never expected my little knitting project to be so coveted. That's why the photo above shows my knitting laying on the floor. It's not because I'm a slob who just tosses things onto the floor--don't worry, mom. It's because my cat finds it no matter where I put it. It's because my three year old likes to "twirl it so fast." I have to hide my knitting and I can't knit in front of child or feline. Strange. I always pictured myself by the fire knitting while my cat slept beside me and my child read on the floor. Instead, it's like I'm defending the Holy Grail from falling into the wrong hands.
I think Mike is after my knitting as we speak. What diabolical dead is he planning?