I have become one of Those Knitters, projects tucked away, unfinished, abandoned. A baby blanket I’m not sure I like. An octopus for a friend’s baby that was looking nothing like an octopus. A hat for my son needing only an I-cord to finish it. A sweater complete save for so many loose ends to tie in.
Not just those, but the ones I am Working On – the scarf that will go with the mittens I’ve already knit, the socks for my cousin, the pants for my son, the dish cloth for a gift.
I feel I have such unfinished projects tucked away all over my life. In writing and learning and reading. In dishes to cook and miles to run. I keep feeling like I will have accomplished something as soon as I cross x, y, and z off of my list, but there are always more chores, more tasks, more ideas. My husband asks why I can’t just be happy here, now, with all that we have, and I don’t know. I want to be.
I know that we have it all. I do. But I want more.
Just keep stitching.