priorities

This is to remind myself about priorities — that a lot of the things I do, I do because I choose to, because I have prioritized something or other. It's something I often forget. I am easily guilted, and now that there is the Spanish Inquisition, there is always something to feel guilty about.

I have a neighbour who has a child about the Spanish Inquisition's age, and she is wondrous. Her house is spectacular; everything is always tidy and clean; she always looks put together. The first time she invited me over, she served me a no-rise, gluten-free loaf of bread ... that she had baked herself that morning ... with sprouts that she had grown. While dealing with an under-one baby, who did not sleep through the night, who was still nursing, who woke up around the (literal) crack of dawn.

I'm pretty sure I just rolled out of bed that day around 9 o'clock. (We were very lucky around that time: the Spanish Inquisition didn't sleep through the night, but she did sleep in.) I may or may not have brushed my hair.

The thing is, though, her house is always clean because it's important to her. I've seen her spot-Pledge the floor after someone accidentally spilled a bit of tea or biscuit on it. Me? I've been known to step around cat puke. (Not for more than a few hours, and not where the Spanish Inquisition is liable to come upon it. But otherwise ... it's been known to happen, is what I'm saying.) So, obviously, a clean house is a little bit more important to her than it is to me. She has beautiful, modern teak furniture and a sparkly kitchen. I have feral dust bunnies rapidly gaining sentience.

This weekend, I gave her child a little handknit cardigan. I gave myself a couple of weeks to do it, and at no point was I terribly worried over it — it had a (very easy) cable pattern and raglan sleeves. Granted, I did end up sewing the buttons on while slightly drunk the night before — but that was only because my silk-camel yarn arrived and I absolutely had to immediately cast on; it wasn't a race to the end. I say all this because everybody else was very amazed by it — how did I find the time to knit? It must have taken so much of my free time. And I felt very abashed, like I'd pulled a fast one on them. The truth is, it hadn't really taken me any time at all.

... Except then it dawned on me (and Pd helped me with this), that it also sort of did. All that time when she was catching up on housework, or making herself presentable, I was ... knitting. Or reading. And I shouldn't feel guilty about that (although, of course, hello!, I do). It's priorities. Having a house that is the perpetual mess of mine would drive her mad. Not having the time to knit or read would make me insane. And so, we choose the things that make us happy. And that doesn't make us any better, or worse, than the other person.

I am really trying very hard to remember this. I bet her kid never tried to stuff a dust bunny in his mouth.*

*This is not true, actually. I just remembered: he has. At my place.

family knitting

Busy, busy week. The Chinese new year is this Sunday, and it's traditional to wear something new for the visiting day. So I've been finishing things up for the family:


Socks for my sweetie. New handknit socks have become a sort of tradition around here, which is really just me shooting myself in the foot — who wants more deadline knitting a month after Christmas? Nonetheless, here they are, self-striping yarn from the turtlepurl (colourway: "Burberry"), purchased at The Purple Purl. The pattern is a simple 3x1 rib to show off the stripes. Which I find fascinating, actually, because usually I knit with hand-dyed variegated yarns, whose pairs never look the same. Sometimes they don't even look related. So this thing about having a pair of socks that are identical? It's kind of blowing my wee mind.

These have progressed significantly since I took this picture — there are only about 10 more rounds before the toe decreases. I should be able to do them in plenty of time.

And for my other sweetie:


A sweet little dress with Noro stripes. (The Purple Purl had a massive markdown on one of my two favourite Noro colourways in Ayatori. How could I not?) I blocked this last night, so it is all ready for the day; luckily my mother knits so hopefully she will appreciate my handiwork.

Alas, I myself do not get new socks this year.  I decided to prioritize Pd, who got ... well, three. (Two for Christmas, one for the new year.) This is fair because I've kind of stiffed him in the sock department for the past couple of years, and he's been very patient about it. (Last year, he got his socks — his cushy, warm, 15% cashmere socks — in July. And he was happy. The man is a saint.)

I did start on a pair, on Monday, but honestly, I wasn't going to be able to start and finish a pair of socks while finishing another pair and weaving in the ends of a toddler dress and doing the button bands and buttons of another toddler cardigan ... inside of a week. (The latter is a birthday gift. You'll see it once it's been gifted.)

Besides which, this arrived in the mail on Monday night, and kind of put all other yarn on hold:


Fyberspates Elegance Lace, which is 65% silk and 35% baby camel, in "plum 3" (nominally a little darker and richer than in that picture). It is gorgeous. It has the sheen of silk but the camel keeps it from catching on the needles the way silk often does. This will be yet another cardigan for me — justified because it's been several months since I knit anything for me, one, and two, because it's been frigidly cold out and I've proven that I do wear my handknits, if winter gives me a chance.

Although, mind you, I wouldn't exactly say no if winter stopped given me any more chances to do so until, say, next December?