Nanny

All my life I've known that my great-grandmother (Nanny to us) was a magnificent crocheter and knitter. I have no memory of seeing her do it, but I have the products to prove that she did and she did it well!

I talk about her as though she's gone, but she's still around. 92! She just doesn't crochet or knit anymore. A few years ago, she asked me to remind her how to cast on so she could knit some house slippers. She couldn't get the hang of it, but she wasn't too discouraged. She just found something else to do instead.

I wish I had that ability. When my knitting pisses me off, I waste hours trying to fix it or show it who's boss, or just steam about it. I can't set it aside and work on something better. Maybe next time I'll cuddle up under this beautiful blanket, admire her work, and feel better about my current failing. Just a bump in the road. I mean, look at this gorgeous thing! Who can be mad at some sticks and string for a moment when you've created something as beautiful as this?

That's something I don't do very often. I rejoice in a project as soon as I finish it, but I very seldom revisit projects and just look at them and bask in my own talent. I think we should all do that. We make stuff! We make beautiful stuff! Some of that stuff might have mis-crossed cables or a dropped stitch or crooked eyelets (I should also write about my grandmother, whose knitting is almost tragically flawed, yet she laughs about it and moves to the next project. She's a riot and a sweetheart), but only we will ever see those things. To the rest of the world, they are beautiful things and we should see that too.