Sometimes, when I sit down for a nice knit-a-thon, I feel guilty. I like knitting more than almost anything else I could do in a day, and left to my own devices, with no responsibilities or work, that’s pretty much how I’d choose to spend it. I know I might be a little unique here, but I think my guilt is a useful emotion. On some level, I’m grateful for it. After I’ve been knitting for a while, this voice in my head will start whispering about a balanced life, and work, and laundry and it will say things like “Knitting doesn’t answer emails” and “knitting isn’t exactly the kind of exercise you could call cardio” and “you can’t eat knitting for dinner.” Eventually it’s the creeping pangs of consciousness that can get me to get up and do something other than knit.
Don’t get me wrong, I think knitting is totally productive, and that it’s doing a lot of really great things for me, like helping protect my brain as I age, keeping my hands and mind nimble, and probably helping to make sure I don’t wind up in prison with a room-mate nicknamed Biter – but as much as I think it’s valuable and I should be doing it every day – rather a lot, it’s not a ton of fun to knit while you beat yourself up for the other stuff. I love knitting too much to let it get screwed up by my feelings about being the sort of person who has an trashed bathroom. This system works pretty well for me. Well enough that I’m at the armholes for Lou’s sweater, and the kitchen is clean enough that I don’t have to worry about spores of any kind.
Now. I’m going to go scrape whatever the hell that is out of the bottom of the fridge – and then I’ll start a sleeve. Got a favourite way to make knitting time?
PS. Thanks so much for the warm words about the book and the tour. I too think a perpetual book tour that took me every single place each one of you lives would be a gas.
PPS. The astute among you will note that I said the kitchen was clean, then said I was going to clean something revolting out of the fridge, which would sort of mean that the kitchen wasn’t clean, but that’s not how it works here. Here, for the kitchen to be clean, it just has to look clean. There’s no frakking way I’m ever buying one of those fridges with a clear door.