I'm taking a break from our roadtrip in the heartland to talk a bit about yarn. You heard me right... colored string that you make stuff with. But not just any stuff; things that loved ones will use and remember you by. A friend of mine had her first child last year, and I knitted these little booties for her. With stay-put ties, she used them all the time. A tiny baby I hardly ever saw was kept warm and bright by a bit of string I had knitted into socks.
I suppose I could have bought a pair at the store and wrapped them up, but I didn't. Between you and me, I knitted these during the darkest time in my life so far. It was an inner darkness, and I thought I would die there, suffocated by a pressing despair. Knitting something pretty was as a tiny hole in that dark room, where a bit of light could shine through. I remember the day I finished them; I sat them up by a little onesie I had purchased to go with them and thought that if I could make something so promising and beautiful, then there must be something in me yet worth salvaging.
Out of that despair emerged the way I feel about homemade things ... there is something in you yet, in everyone, worth salvaging.
I am regularly inspired by a blogging friend named Judy, who is having a homemade giveaway this week at her blog:
She has dipped into her own private stash of colored string and homemade things, and is reaching out across the world to anyone interested in receiving a bit of Judy in their mailbox. (I love her idea).
A bit of string and a bit of friendship...