On knitting.

"One row here 

And one row there

I like to knit everywhere. 

So if you think You'd like it too

Just start with a couple of knots

And soon you'll be knitting lots and lots."

(A poem I wrote about knitting, inspired by Dr. Seuss).

____________

I'm pretty sure I have written about knitting before but it doesn't matter, I'll write about it again.

Knitting has become somewhat of an obsession in the last couple of years, from pretty modest beginnings to being able to tackle more ambitious projects nowadays.

As long as I can remember, I have always enjoyed slow crafts. Something I have most likely inherited from my father's side of the family. I remember learning to cross-stitch in the summers with my paternal grandmother, my first project being a little house stitched with chunky colorful thread, before moving on to a classic 'Abecedaire'.

I also enjoy sewing despite not being particularly skilled. An aversion to following patterns without modifying them means that the results of my sewing tend to be a little unpredictable and the process slightly stressful. For a while, when Chris and I both worked as young gun architects, I made Thursday night my dedicated sewing night while he learned French at the Alliance Francaise. Over the course of a few months, I sewed quite a few clothes, mostly with fleece (a fairly forgiving fabric!). Now that I think of it, my sewing skills and Chris' French are probably at an equivalent level which is best described as 'very beginner'.

Knitting came into my life a few years ago in Albury. I suspect Chris' mother was busy knitting something for the latest grandchild to be born and I asked her to teach me. She promptly set me up with a ball of dark green wool and a pair of needles. Watching attentively, I learned to cast on, followed by the two basic stitches: Plain and Purl, one is knit towards the front and the other towards the back.

In many ways, this is all one needs to know to get started on a project. Everything else is merely a variation on these two stitches. The results often look far more complicated than the actual process. I love the fact that with every new project I choose, I can decide how challenged I want to feel. Sometimes, I'll pick something large but simple, other times, I go for a small but fiddly little thing. Every time, I try to learn something new.

To me, learning to knit feels similar to learning a language or music. Once mastered, the possibilities are endless but break it down and it all comes down a handful of bite-sized pieces which can simply be tackled one at a time.

Following a knitting pattern is very similar to following a recipe. Each step is carefully and precisely described so you just have to go with it even when you're not quite sure of where it's taking you. I usually try and get a sense of the pattern as a whole but once I am doing it, I never read ahead, I just faithfully follow the instructions, step by step and magically (when the pattern is well written), it leads me to a completed garment. Youtube tutorials help as well!!

These days, I use knitting as a form of meditation. Quiet, repetitive, and more importantly, it gives me a lovely sense of satisfaction. I love learning new techniques, like tiny dance steps, each movement carefully rehearsed to form part of a whole. I love watching my fingers move the wool around from one needle to the other, moving the needles this way and that so precisely and after a while, almost mechanically. Sometimes, I feel like I can just watch it happening without needing to think about it.

For me, it's all about the journey and once I have reached the destination, I'm already thinking about my next project. I love that I have found this new hobby. I'm sure I'll cross-stitch and sew again, but I'll always go back to knitting. It just seems to work for me in a way I didn't expect.

Useful or beautiful.

There is a saying I really like,

“If you want a golden rule that will fit everything, this is it: Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.” - William Morris.

I wish I could say this was true of our house. Don't get me wrong, we have lots of beautiful things and plenty of useful ones too, but unfortunately, we also have quite a few that don't fit that criteria. 

Compared to some people, we actually don't have that much stuff. Living on a relatively modest budget helps with that. But still, clutter creeps in and accumulates, eating away at your space despite the best of intentions. 

If I look carefully, everywhere I turn, I can see objects we don't use and don't love. Cds we never listen to, books we'll never read again, boxes full of mystery stuff, kitchen utensils we never use, clothes that will never fit again and the list goes on... 

Our house is spacious and fairly free of clutter but our current storage spaces are getting full and as we grow our family, what comes in far exceeds what goes out. Inevitably, the stuff that is currently neatly contained will overflow, more furniture will be bought, more storage will be built and the mystery boxes will keep piling up. 

I have been reading a few blogs by people adopting a "minimalist" lifestyle and I have to say, I am a bit hooked on the idea. These people are doing it the extreme way, clearing out 80% of their stuff and only leaving what is absolutely essential. 

They claim to feel lighter, happier, richer and better able to focus on what is important: experiences, health, family, passions...

I'm not proposing to do go all the way (yet) but reading these blogposts has gotten me inspired to lighten up. The main message is that we are not our things and rather than adding value to our lives, 'things' demand time, energy and money to be bought, maintained, organised and stored. 

I would rather have less than organise more. 

As I begin my de-cluttering journey, so many thoughts and emotions go around in my head. How do I buy less with children? Where do I start? What should I do with gifts/sentimental objects? What will I do with the things I want to get rid of? Where do I stop? How long will it take? What am I trying to achieve? Am I allowed (to be somewhat counter-cultural)? 

I am starting to formulate answers for a lot of these questions and more, based on beginning the process and on other people's experience. Some of these answers are quite surprising and I look forward to sharing them through my writing. 

Less is definitely more. 

Light and air fill the space without taking up any.

The adult child.

On Sunday morning, we escaped the rainy weather by going to the Newcastle museum to enjoy a coffee and the indoor toddler play area.

The play area is set up with lots of foam toys, a plastic slide and climbing gym and a couple tower type structures which house a little trampoline. As I was sitting on the sidelines while Chris looked after Hugo, another father became so enthusiastic with the play equipment that he decided to swing himself onto the little trampoline before hoisting his son up with him. They both then stayed in there for quite a while. In fact, they were both still in there when we left.

My first reaction was to be slightly annoyed by the whole thing. I wasn't sure it was really very safe for a grown man to sit on a net clearly designed for the use of children. I also found that by taking up all the space available, he was making it impossible for any other child to use it.

I think that mainly though I was annoyed by what it says about a parent's role today. Are we really supposed to play like our children or is supervising with a little enthusiasm enough?

In principle, I don't have an issue with people releasing their inner child onto the rest of us. I'm sure this man's son enjoys it immensely but I do wonder what the effect of the 'parent as entertainer' is on the child's independence and imagination.

We seem to live in a society that is terrified of boredom. Children especially should never be bored and as a result, an endless selection of activities, all structured and supervised, is on hands to avoid boredom at all cost. Sadly, this also means that children are rarely left to play alone and unsupervised and as a direct result, they rarely experience the excitement of inventing their own game, making their own discoveries or inhabiting a world that they can truly make their own.

Why? Because their parents are always in the way. We are constantly told as adults that our children's stimulation is paramount so we start waving rattles and flash cards in their tiny faces the moment they are out. It never really stops after that and with a fear of setting the child back, in relation to his peers, parents have turned all of their attention on the entertainment and education of their children, day after day.

And I think this is partly why we find grown men in kids' trampolines. Because we are told so much that we have to engage with our children, ALL THE TIME, that we don't even know when to take a step back and simply watch them figure out how to get in there in their own time and under their own steam.

I have figured out a simple rule for how to manage the fine line between encouraging independence without being completely oblivious to Hugo's needs. I try not to help him too much with play equipment he wouldn't know how to use by himself. I figure that if he can't climb this or swing off that without my help every step of the way, then, he probably shouldn't be using it because it was likely designed for an older age group.

If he is trying very hard and almost managing to tackle something new, I'm happy to give that last little push and get him up there. I know that next time, he'll manage on his own but I didn't deprive him of the importance of trying by himself first. Even with a little help, that last accomplishment is his and I want him to enjoy the satisfaction. I also know that next time he won't need or want my help.

As long as I'm looking back when he turns around with a beaming smile, he'll know I'm there without having to be right there. If he can get in there, he can have the trampoline!

Dusting off the old SLR.

In my quest to do things better and more mindfully, I have pulled out our trusty digital SLR camera to take photos at home. I'm feeling pretty rusty but enjoying the process nonetheless. The photos, although still far from great, are already much more beautiful than iphone pix. Here are a few from the last week's attempts... to be continued (and improved). It helps to have such beautiful subjects though.