Nashville Stitch N Bitch

killing two birds with one stone

I don't have anything to offer you here.

I several things going on craft-wise, and I actually thought about throwing them in a big heap on the floor and taking a picture of the jumbled parts, but I couldn't dredge the energy to pull the pictures off of my digital camera. My George over there is in great need of another crafting job, but I'm mad at him over so many things that I've put him in the corner and haven't let him out for a week.

Since I have no focus, photos and nothing to offer you, I'm going to let you in on a little prayer. Blog and pray at the same time.

Dear God,

I know it's been a few days since we have formally spoken, but I thought I'd put a few things out there for what it's worth.

First, why don't I like knitting socks? karen likes making socks. In fact, she's to socks what Randy Newman is to movie soundtracks. Prolific. There isn't a sock she hasn't knitted or a sock yarn she hasn't tried. I feel pale and barefoot in comparison. As if I am not clothing my family in the socks they so badly deserve. Perhaps its the years I spent with bad tension, knitting on toothpicks. I can't bring myself to pick up those size 2s when I am having a honeymoon with my size 9s. Why?

Next, why can't I make something for myself? Anything? OK, I made the yoga bag and I am really enjoying it, but everything I make I shove out the door like a guest who has stayed too long. I see people on their blogs making things right and left for themselves. Is it a self-esteem issue? Do I secretly hate my things? Is it a homemaking instinct gone awry? Is it showing love through wool? What is it?

Please help my permanent press to keep from pulling, for me to get through another week with that God-awful, excuse me, gosh-awful acrylic yarn in my husband's sweater, for me to come to terms with my mistake and not be afraid to rip back 7 inches. 7. Freaking. Inches. Not that I'm complaining. For me to embrace the process and not rush to the ending like a high school boy.

Please forgive me for cursing at Joann's last week so loudly that all of the housewives heard me, for thinking bad thoughts about acrylic users, for taking the name of Rowan in vain, for coveting my neighbor's sewing machine, for wanting to stab that person (you know who) with a size 17. A size 17 that I would stab them with and then twist. In their genitals. And then maybe stick it in their eye. But yes, sorry, please forgive me for that.

Oh, and sorry for the "God awful" above. And the high school boy sex comment. And for that really twisted knitting joke that I typed and then deleted. I know you're omnipotent and all that so best to apologize.

xo

P.S. please let me have some better content for these poor folks next time

Posted by Angela at February 9, 2005 03:27 PM