I knew that I wanted to be an English major by the time I was 14. English was not only a subject that I did well in, but it was also one that actually held my attention. I was an editor and contributor for the school literary magazine, and I even came third in a school-wide poetry recitation contest. But I always had trouble saying, “I like reading.”
Let me first say that I love books. I love holding a book in my hands. Mid-size paperbacks with soft pages and flexible spines−man, they are the best. I like walking around knowing that I have a book in my bag, that I could close out the world and just focus on the piece of work in my hands. If I wanted to. I’m so comfortable in bookstores, and libraries make me feel the kind of excitement you get before you go to see a show. But I wouldn’t be 100% honest if I said, “I like reading.”
Remember when I said that I’d be posting on Sunday mornings? I’ve already lied to you. It’s Wednesday, and here’s another new post for you.
It’s the first Wednesday of the month.
I want to introduce you to a project I’m starting, and even though this is a life project, I can’t seem to separate it from a crochet metaphor in my mind. It goes like this:
If you’re a yarn crafter, you know how tempting it can be to gather patterns for projects you would love to make. You may even go so far as to buy the yarn, but let’s face it, some projects never get started.Even more projects never get finished. My life feels kind of like my yarn stash right now. It’s a mix of exciting possibilities, overwhelming potential, and a bit of guilt for letting some endeavors sit for so long. (I’m thinking of you, granny square blanket that I started in 2015).