Another Year Gone

I always look forward to this time of year -- the chance to look back and reflect on what went right, what went wrong, how my knitting performance compares to the Knitlisters who each year share their annual performance statistics to make me feel like crap. Not!

I've had a year like many others -- I've done a bunch of knitting for CIC, and some for preemies. I've knit a few things for my grandchildren. I designed one new sock pattern. I knit several single socks. I've started 20 things I'll never finish, and 15 I'll never even pick up again. I've knit with both of my sisters, have knit with other members of my knitting guild, have served my second year as guild president, have traveled to other parts of the country and toured shops, proselytizing about knitting in general and the Atlanta Knitting Guild specifically. I've taken classes with several nationally known knitting teachers (Sally Melville, Debbie Radtke, Ginger Luters) and several local classes. God knows I've bought my share of yarn!

So why do I feel so completely inadequate when I read those lists on the Knitlist? Seriously, this is the time of year when I set the Knitlist to "no mail" so I don't have to read those lists by the metrics-obsessed members. Am I secretly jealous? What's my problem?

One of the things that's exciting about belonging to the guild is that there are so many really fine knitters. If ever there was a place to make a less-productive and creative knitter feel inadequate, that would be the place. For instance, one of our former presidents brought her latest project to the guild one night for show and tell: an upholstered chair! That made me feel a little, well, "what the heck was she thinking?," but not inadequate.

And I read knitting blogs -- lots of knitting blogs -- and have a pretty good idea of what other knitters are knitting. Some are more productive than others, some more creative, and some definitely fall into the "what the heck was she thinking" category.

So why does it burn my toast when I read those smug, self-satisfied itemizations of shawls, ponchos, gloves, socks (presumably entire pairs!), jackets, baby blankets, and God Knows What Else?

I think the difference is the feeling of connectivity. When I read a blog, I might think, "wow, I can't believe she got all that done, what with her three children under six, unemployed husband, overgrown garden, and that fibromyalgia." When I see one of the members of the guild excel I'm happy for him/her because they're real people to me. But when I see a post from someone who never posts otherwise listing those 224 pairs of socks, all donated to a worthy charity, I'm sure, I feel like crap.

I don't make New Year's resolutions any more -- they're just one more thing to make me feel like a failure when I break them -- but if I did, it would be to delete any postings from the Knitlist Overachievers. But I love the list, so I hope they all get it out of their systems soon so I can get back to enjoying reading about the ordinary shlumps like myself who may frog more than they bind off.

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And, about the yarn diet controversy. What a tempest in a teapot...Wendy must be laughing her butt off, to think that so many people have their knickers in a twist about this, although she's obviously wayyyy too polite to ever say so. (What an odd mixture of metaphors that sentence was.)

I mean the joke is ... if my yarn diet is as successful as my regular diet is, I'll end up with two rooms of yarn instead of one. The simple fact is, many of us who knit have way too much yarn, more than we'll ever be able to knit. Wondering who will parcel it out is much more of a problem for me than wondering who'll pay for my funeral after I'm gone and whether I should get more life insurance from AARP. So, yes, of course, I think I should go on a yarn diet. I should really, no, really, buy less yarn and use it up faster.

Reality? I'll try to eat less and exercise more this year, and I'll try not to buy quite so much yarn. But, bottom line, I'll see something in one of the local shops, or online, or while I'm traveling, that will make me think -- I could be a better knitter if I had that, or That yarn will make me look slimmer, or OMG, I HAVE to make one of those. And then I'll buy the yarn.

So, I think the LYS owners who are in a swivet about this issue, and whether Wendy Johnson can singlehandedly bring all the yarn stores in the country down with her yarn diet, should take a deep breath and relax. Concentrate instead on giving your customers excellent service. We'll be back, again and again, if we feel welcome. Because, let's face it, yarn buying is much more about going to a warm, cozy environment, sitting and knitting with old and new friends, fondling fiber, and learning a new technique than it is about stashing or destashing.

By the way, in the interest of full disclosure, let it be known that I am considering the yarn diet. So, I dashed out to Joann's Fabric yesterday to buy wool yarn on sale (Paton's) for CIC socks. Then I quick ordered two new lots of wool yarn from eBay, also for CIC socks. And I didn't buy new yarn for the hat my grandson Cole asked for, because I couldn't find the pattern, but as soon as I find it, I'm buying that yarn, diet or no.

As Wendy says, it's all about the rules. Mine are that I'll try to do better, really I will, but yarn happens and it's quite likely that I'll buy yarn this year. Maybe even lots of yarn. And if I win the lottery, it could get ugly. And that won't be against any of my rules.