It's like a Booty Call...
I'm calling it a Knitty Call.
It's a yarn not like anything you're normally attracted to. It's a bit wild. It's funky. You've only got about 100 yards. Something fast and easy is required. You laugh a bit naughtily as you turn your back on those things that are waiting for you.
In an afternoon spent in front of the fire you get creative. A third of the way through you know it's a mistake. But you keep going. It's there - you can finish it today. It won't be carried over to tomorrow. It's just a day of knitting. It's just a scarf. Not real commitment. Nothing like a sweater in fingering llama or a lace shawl. All the knitting for other people is done already. This is just a bit of indulgence.
You finish and toss it over your shoulder as you head out for pizza. It's not that cold so you leave it on the car seat. As you finish your beer you're already regretting the energy wasted. It wasn't satisfying. It meant nothing. You know you're better than that.
The first thing you do when you get home is snip the edge of the scarf and thread the end through the loop of the ball winder. As you turn the handle the entire experience is unraveled. It's over. Nothing remains.
You vow never to do that again.
It's a yarn not like anything you're normally attracted to. It's a bit wild. It's funky. You've only got about 100 yards. Something fast and easy is required. You laugh a bit naughtily as you turn your back on those things that are waiting for you.
In an afternoon spent in front of the fire you get creative. A third of the way through you know it's a mistake. But you keep going. It's there - you can finish it today. It won't be carried over to tomorrow. It's just a day of knitting. It's just a scarf. Not real commitment. Nothing like a sweater in fingering llama or a lace shawl. All the knitting for other people is done already. This is just a bit of indulgence.
You finish and toss it over your shoulder as you head out for pizza. It's not that cold so you leave it on the car seat. As you finish your beer you're already regretting the energy wasted. It wasn't satisfying. It meant nothing. You know you're better than that.
The first thing you do when you get home is snip the edge of the scarf and thread the end through the loop of the ball winder. As you turn the handle the entire experience is unraveled. It's over. Nothing remains.
You vow never to do that again.
Labels: booty call, commitment, knitty call
posted by Lost City Denise | 6:39 PM
1 Comments:
What an interesting story, Denise! It makes me want to see that yarn! I think this happens to all of us, no matter what our form of creative endeavor. I didn't know you had this blog and I'm glad to have the opportunity to read it!
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