It’s no secret I can be a a little obsessive about activities/hobbies/interests/whatever. It’s ok, I’m chuckling, too. In the space that derby and gardening and canning now occupy have passed a laundry list of things studied and practiced, halfway to crazytown. Among these include:
- knitting
- (yarn) dyeing
- (photographing and identifying) mushrooms
- (bread) baking
- playing the cello
- ice dancing
- playing the piano
- vet med (it’s a longish story)
- tech theatre
- golf
There’s more, I’m sure, but those stand out as lasting at least a few years and bringing with them a significant amount of new stuff.
Most of the time, for me, getting involved in new activities means new reading material and worlds to understand; new gear and gadgets to learn about and acquire and catalog; and something new to schedule around. People sometimes ask me where I find the time (or they’ll sigh and say things like, “I wish I had time to knit.”) I usually don’t say anything. But I’ll solve the mystery for you: There are no sacred cows in my non-work time. I’m willing to drop tv for derby; drop knitting for gardening; drop gardening for dyeing. Right now. I don’t look at a new activity as something that has to have permanent space. It’s a visitor, and I accommodate it. Ice dancing uprooted my evening tv-watching a few days a week for about 5 years. Derby put a damper on both gardening and canning this summer. New activities don’t always push something else out, but usually something has to give, and its always another activity that once took center stage.
Gardening evicted knitting for the summer months, starting about 4 years ago. The first year I called it an oversight, the second a failure, and in the third I embraced it as a part of the changing seasons. Summers are full of fresh produce, cooking and spending time outdoors with friends and family and beer and the grill. I’m not sure our television was turned on from July 1 to September 1. I love television — this isn’t a judgment thing — I just forgot about it. And about knitting.
And now the garden is mostly tucked in for the winter, that’s not much left around to can, and the weather prompts me to bring out the tubs of knitted things. I’m reminded of the first thing I knit for Melli — a soft green sideways garter stitch scarf, delivered just before the only winter holidays we’ve spent apart. And the ribbed scarf in chocolates and pinks that she made for me two years ago on an unexpected trip to the UK, with yarn I acquired in a ravelry dyers’ swap. Mittens, hats, more scarves, more memories. And it’s knitting season again, in an instant.
I made a mess of my knitting/media room over the last year or so (I blame the tenure process), so I have major work to do there. But in my head, I’m already planning to knit all the things, every one. Mittens and cowls and sleeves and blankets and socks and more. I’m committed (again) to a massive destash, and (again) to completion of works in progress, and to finishing some gifts I’d started last winter. And long chilly afternoons in front of a fake fire and something deliciously cheesy on the tv.
