There is a certain happiness in knitting to make someone warm.
I made this hat a couple weeks ago and I think she looks like a little babushka nestled in her carseat. She's far away in the Windy City--but her dad snapped this early this morning and it met me as I opened my computer.
I like to think I knit on purpose, that there's a method to the madness.
William Morris wrote, Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful.
Very rarely do I pick up the needles just to keep my hands busy. I pick them up to make something warm, something soft, something pretty.
My daughter gave me yellow galoshes for Christmas. I love them. The other day it rained and I wore them to work, expertly avoiding the puddles as I made my way across the street. Bob took a picture of me, green raincoat, yellow boots and all.
And standing there I realized, Why am I circumnavigating the puddles? That's what these yellow boots are for--making a splash!
When I knit on purpose I make a splash, it spills over onto other people. A hat, a sweater, a coffee cozy. Someone feels remembered, maybe they're a little warmer inside.
I know I am.
These days there are fewer things lying about my house, but I love each one. Some you might look at and wonder why--that won't trouble me. If I know it to be useful, or believe it to be beautiful...that is enough.
You can find the pattern for the little
'babushka hat' here: