Here’s the current status of the baby jacket.
Look familiar? Yeah. It’s been a couple of weeks and it’s gone nowhere. In that time, I’ve ripped out the blanket made of dog fur yarn, made considerable progress on the baby blanket and the second clapotis, and then yesterday I started to make a log cabin bathmat, from Mason Dixon Knitting. This morning I ripped it out and started over and now I have this, which I’m quite pleased with.
I made it using acrylic I had lying around. I’ve decided that I must embrace acrylic, instead of shunning it. Because I will only be able to afford wool and other more luxurious fibres occasionally. And I plan on knitting a lot more than occasionally.
But the lack of progress on the baby jacket is what’s really the point here. The reason for the lack of progress is fear. Poorly based fear, at that. The pattern leaves a lot of the figuring up to me, basically telling me to mirror what I did on the left front. I like a little more direction at this point in my knitting education. But this fear and refusal to deal with the problem in order to move forward are pretty much the main themes of my life right now.
I’m confronted with another possible change. And even though this could be a really good, very welcome change, it also means, well, change. And a lot of it. And that tends to make me freeze in my tracks. To the point where for the past three days I haven’t left the house. Which may or may not be related to this looming possible change, but I’m really just looking for some explanation of my hermitage.
And now I’ve come to this place where I kind of feel like in order to move forward with my life, I have to move forward with this jacket. And as long as it sits bundled up in a flour sack, out of sight and only half-finished, nothing else in my life will change. Is that insane? It might be insane. At the very least, it’s not quite right.