Today is Thanksgiving. I have many things to give thanks for: good health, great friends, and dogs that tolerate costumes to name but a few. Near the top of my list is, of course, you. Knitting? You have saved me so many times. You've kept my hands from becoming devilishly idle. You've inspired me to use my imagination. You've helped me start conversations all over the world, often in languages I did not speak but somehow understood, as strangers pointed to you on my needles and gestured wildly and happily in a way that easily let me know that they, too, were grateful to have you in their lives. I'm thinking of little old ladies on the trains in Japan. Speed knitting men in el mercado in San Miguel de Allende. Yarn shop owners in Buenos Aires.
I am thankful, too, that you are so wonderful that you have managed to make my boyfriend so interested in the process that he actually engages in conversations about you on a regular basis. (Though I admit I'm a little less grateful for the fact that you have inspired him to set knitting challenges for me that I can't seem to refuse: knitted handcuffs, a knitted turkey hat, a knitted menorah hat, and most recently a knitted gnome hat-and-beard. Don't get me wrong, these are all fun but they cut into my Selfish Knitting for Me Time.) I remember last December when we were going to be apart for New Year's Eve-- him in Paris, me in Houston. And he said he planned to go to the Eiffel Tower at midnight to look at all the pretty... hand knitted scarves and gloves. That's really what he said and I know he meant it. Because you, knitting, you are so beautiful and intricate and practical and whimsical and warm and wonderful all at once that you could distract a man from all those sexy mademoiselles and focus his attention instead on life's more important beauties: cables, lace, baubles, ribbing, intarsia, and Fair Isle.
Oh yes, knitting, you are such a wonder to behold. Thank you for existing so that I can take annual trips to Monhegan Island for my knitting retreat. (I wouldn't qualify to attend without you in my life.) Also thank you for existing so I have an excuse to hold semi-regular Knit Knights-- eating/drinking/talking extravaganzas that leave my friends and me fuller on so many levels.
Thank you for being the thing that means I have a unique wardrobe, one I can give myself some credit for. Thank you for lending yourself to playfulness and elegance. Thank you for not minding that sometimes I mix and match hand knit Noro socks with a kimono-style Silk Manos sweater and Alchemy lace scarf.
Thank you for inspiring my writing-- since you came into my life I have found new magazines to write for and, hopefully, soon, will have a book all about you to present to the world.
Thank you for being a really big reason Hill Country Weavers exists (though I know the weaving is important, too). HCW is on par with the beach when it comes to my Happiest Places in the Universe, and I need only step inside the door to feel better about my life. My troubles melt away as I look at all of the yarn and books and gadgets dedicated to you, my dear knitting.
Today is a day for giving thanks. I cannot heap enough upon you. Thank you more than I can say for all you have brought into my world. I can't wait to sit down with you later today and just run my hands all over you, and drink in your beauty, and wrap you in my arms. (Well, okay, wrap my arms in you.)
With love and gratitude,
p.s. The picture at the top is a hat much like one I made. This one comes from GoingCrafty.com and you can find the pattern by clicking this link.