As if in preparation for this new month, but without really realising it, I've been cooking more, baking more and this morning, Oldest Son and I made jam – from the strawberries we picked on Friday. Put like that it sounds very idyllic but, rest assured, we've had the usual mayhem in-between – hence the jam was only made today and not when the fruit was plucked straight off the bush. And I've been knitting again! And not just work knitting: Last week, I finally made it to the knitting group at our local library, met some lovely women (and young girls) and was treated to some tea and cake. That's on top of swopping knitting stories and admiring the projects progressing around me. I'd forgotten how much I missed it.
Of course, a knitter can't go to a knitting group without knitting, and "Battersea" was finally selected for the outing – my summer knitting project. Well, more accurately, the jumper I was hoping to wear this summer. Although apparently autumn doesn’t start until the 22nd September so there’s still a (small and ever decreasing) chance it could happen. But I'm not worried: I understand that there may be another summer next year and this garment has been chosen for the kind of weather that this season usually brings: A deep, V-necked jumper with long sleeves – definitely to be worn over a t-shirt / vest and not to be modelled on its own (unless still breast-feeding youngest Son).
Since my trip to the library, I've completed the back and I'm over half-way through the 42-row rib at the bottom of the front. And while I'm pleased with my progress, I am left somewhat bewildered by the ease at which it's been accomplished and left wondering why it's taken so long? It's a familiar feeling and one that accompanies most of my long-term projects, most especially a certain jumper for a certain spouse. But this is happy writing and I'm not going to get tangled-up in projects unfinished. I can do that another time.
It would be an over-simplification to blame only the weather for a lack of desire of knitting - after all, those long-summer evenings are a perfect time for the craft (and, most especially, if we have some dark yarn on the needles. Say, something for winter). It might also have something to do with not sleeping as much as I'd like, the distraction of putting our home on the market and trying to find a new one, going away to visit family and driving at least some of the way (and no, Husband still doesn't knit). But even without these, I'd still knit less than I do in the autumn / winter, and I know that I'm not the only one.
So, what is it exactly that triggers us to pick up our needles again? The phase of the moon? A new wind? Or something more tangible, like the desire to start wearing knit wear? Have the new yarns and designs somehow woven their way into our subconscious – or conscious, even? Or, after a prolonged absence from our fingers, do we just miss the process of knitting?
I guess it doesn't really matter why - all relationships have their ups and downs so why should ours with knitting be any different? After all, it's often – if not always – an emotional journey as well as a creative one, and so for some, it might be advantageous to recoup both physical and emotional energies in preparation for the winter ahead. And all the new knitting that will bring.
In the meantime, I'll make some more progress with "Battersea". I don’t want my fellow library knitters thinking I'm some kind of slacker. At least not this week.