Shortly after I posted my 100th blog post, Artsygal issued a challenge. She was going to start trying to blog on a daily basis, and she challenged me to do the same. So far, so good for both of us (although I think she’s cheated a little…). Unfortunately, I think I left most of my limited eloquence on Ravelry today–looking back through my posts, I was apparently feeling a tad puckish and most of my posts are smart remarks. Fortunately, they’ve all been taken in the spirit in which they were offered…I think today was just an all around puckish day.
(Yes, puckish is one of my favorite words. Why do you ask?)
I can’t blog about the knitting project I just completed, because it’s a gift for someone who might actually read my blog. I’ll just say I’m pretty happy with it…which is good, because I have a couple more to do.
Speaking of more to do…what’s on your Christmas knitting list, if anything? Or do you prefer not to knit for Christmas?
I’ve never done any Christmas knitting before. After all, I’ve only been knitting for a little over a year, and my knitting skills last year weren’t the equal of actually making something for someone they’d have to pretend to be happy to receive. So this is my first foray on to the apparently slippery slope of handmade gifting. I’ve read the horror stories: of the expensive, delicate knitted project destroyed by a careless toss into the washer and dryer…of the lovingly knit afghan later spotted in the dog bed…of the project knit after weeks of combing through patterns for just the right one, never worn by the unenthusiastic recipient…of feeling pressure to make something for someone whom the knitter knows will never like or appreciate it.
I think the key to surviving Christmas knitting is two-fold: low expectations and the ability to walk away.
The individuals I’m knitting for this year don’t know I’m doing it. I haven’t asked them what they’d like; they haven’t requested a certain pattern. In fact, they haven’t requested anything. For all I know, they don’t even wear the items I’m knitting. Basically all I’ve done is try and pick their favorite colors.
So it might very well turn out that they each open their present, put on their best pretend-I-like-this-awful-thing face (you know–the one you perfected over the underwear grandma gave you every year), and put the item away to use as a rag later. But you know what–that’s okay. I’m not expecting them to love it just because I made it for them. I am loving the process. That’s why I’m making these items; I enjoy knitting them. If the recepients love them and wear them all the time, that’s a bonus.
If they don’t, however, I can walk away. I can walk away from the impulse to knit gifts that won’t be appreciated, and from any sense of obligation to knit for people if I don’t want to or I don’t think they’ll like it. It doesn’t make any sense to waste my time…or more importantly, to turn a process that I greatly enjoy into an unwanted duty.
Of course, I’m not going to get to that point unless I get back to the knitting…