I learned to knit about two years ago. Since that weekend lesson, I have made about ten things. Ten baby hats. I had interest in making lots of hats. One for every niece and nephew. A variety of patterns and colors and textures. Then a sister in law began to knit. She knits well and is more bold and secure in her talent. (she makes a variety of hats, whereas I stick to one tried and true pattern.) For this reason, combined with others, I quit knitting. For a while. I just haven't gotten back to it.
I thought about my days of hat-knitting as I drove around town today. I thought of the babies that have grown out of them. Then I thought about the actual hats. Many of them have a flaw in them. A missed stitch here or a knot of some sort. If I made a mistake after the first three, or so, rows, I didn't start over. I did my best to fix or hide the mistake and kept on going. There might have been one hat or two at the beginning of my practice, where the mistakes were so plentiful that I had to start over...a couple of times. Otherwise, I accepted the mistake as part of the hat and kept on. 90% of the hat looked good. I always figured the parent would simply turn the hat on the baby so the blemish was in the back, buried in a car-seat.
I know knitters who talk about ripping apart projects...over and over. I realized that in a few instances, it never even occurred to me to start over.
These hats say a lot about me. Not entirely sure of what they say...but something...
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