Tuesday, February 5, 2013

The First Knit Christmas

 Two weeks into this blog, and I've already missed my (admittdly self-imposed) deadline of one blog per week.

At least, I'm not getting paid to write.  At least at this time, although that is my dream.

I'm also not getting paid to knit - or crochet.  Although that is my passion.  My right-brain activity of choice.  The activity that has played the biggest part in helping this fractured brain heal.  Yes, I read books.  I watch DVD's, but my favorite activity since life got me down for the count has been to (at first) crochet and (now) knit and crochet.

Even before I had the first stress breakdown when the severely stressful situation was escalating, I would indulge in my favorite activity.  Crocheting.  As I revealed in my last blog posting, I was a crocheter with a secret.  I wanted to knit.  I revelled in the feeling of the yarn flowing through my fingers.  Watching the article take shape and form below my fingers.  I chose to make baby afghans during that time.  Round ones.  Square ones.  Yellow, white, pink, whatever.  Even though I didn't know anyone who was expecting.  I figured that I'd find homes for them - eventually.  Finding homes wasn't the purpose.  I needed the right brain activity  to survive.  To be able to stay sane and keep going back into the stressful situation day after day.

And then the unthinkable happened.  I was forced out of the stressful situation partially by health but chiefly with "help" from those on the other side in the situation.

So what did I do?  More crocheting.  Until that fateful day when I walked into a small yarn shop in a small town and was encouraged by the owner, that I too could knit.

 Knitting I have found is totally different from crocheting - especially as I began with the scarves.  I loved the colours.  I loved the feeling of the scarf yarn going through my fingers.  I loved the way it twirled around by itself.  It was fun.  Crocheting is fun but this was a different kind of fun.  A different motion.

I loved also the rhythm of the needles.  Totally different from crocheting.  Right brain.  But a different right brain.  More soothing.  More rhythmic.  The one thing during that period of time that could bring a soft smile to my lips.

As a bonus, I was making my Christmas presents (at least for the females on my life - I wasn't brave enough to attempt to present one of these scarves to my husband, son-in-love or brother-in-law).  I was having fun, enjoying myself AND doing something worthwhile at the same time.

It doesn't get much better than that.

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