raison d'etre

although I'm sure most bloggers in the sphere feel no need to justify the existence of their random musings, I feel the need to reply to my husband, who is shaking his head over this one. "Another blog? Why? why knitting?"

It's true that I already have a blog elsewhere for family members, which details the minutiae of my children's lives. And, for my yoga interests, I contribute to the multiauthor blog yogalila.
I already post most of my photos on Flickr, so it's arguable that yet another blog is redundant. Still, my inner archivist likes to record stuff, and I've been an inveterate journaller for years. I like being able to look back at what I've been doing, and the relative impermanence of electronic format is offset by the ability to add graphics.

I knit as a child and as a college student, but then abandoned it for many years. Literally, for decades, I had one Rubbermaid box with leftover yarn, a half-knit sweater, and a single mitten and I moved that thing from house to apartment to house to house without ever really feeling the need to delve into it. A few years ago my then-4 year old daughter asked for a rainbow coloured baby blanket. I wasn't even sure I remembered HOW to knit, but it turned out to be like riding a bicycle. And then once in the yarn store, I realized that holy cow - yarn had CHANGED. I didn't realize at the time that knitting was rising again in popularity, and that both the knitters and the manufacturers seemed to be driving each other on to new yarns and designs, as well as bringing old classics back to the fore.

And when I got back into it - first with easy things like scarves and blankets - I began to remember how relaxing it was.

There's still lots of other crafty stuff I like to do - but nothing is quite as portable as knitting, for taking along with me to the kid's activities. Plus, at the end of the day (or many days), you have something comfy to drape over yourself or your loved ones, the result of the both the tactile pleasure of passing string through your fingers, and the unwinding of the cares of the day.