Queen's Birthday long week-end - Pix

Little Miss Eloise is 7 weeks old.

And Hugo is just about 27 months old.

TGIF

"Work according to program, not according to mood." 

- Henry Miller.

If it wasn't for these words I came across this week, I wouldn't be writing today.

I feel worn out by weeks that are too long and week-ends that are too short. By the time Friday comes, I am running low on energy, patience and imagination. I've run through my social calendar for the week. We've been to the park, the museum, playgroups. Toys have been brought out and put back on the shelves too many times to count, and by Friday afternoon, I'm staring at the clock waiting for Chris' return.

Then, the week-end comes and the struggle between getting things done and having a rest begins. It goes too fast if we're having fun and just as quick if we're just ticking off boxes. I want to sleep in but I don't want the day to go by too quickly. I want to get out of the house but I also don't want the laundry, dishes, cleaning and so on to accumulate. I crave time with Chris and I crave time alone.

Before we know it, it's Sunday night and the whole routine starts all over again.

Chris was looking at photos the other day and came across some pictures from our long trip around the world. He sighed and said, "those were the days..."

It's true, they were amazing days but I told him that in a few years, when our children turn into moody teenagers or worse, when we become empty-nesters, we would be looking back at photos of Hugo with his arms out-stretched to hold his baby sister or photos of Eloise sleeping snuggly against our chest, and we'll think that actually, "those were the days...".

It's so easy to get bogged down in the frustration, the patience wearing thin, the repetitiveness of it all. The feeling that there is always more to do and that we can never get ahead.

In some ways, It's harder to feel content, grateful and ready to celebrate everything that we have accomplished (and we have accomplished a lot).

As we keep moving towards the next thing, we also need to look up once in a while and take it all in because those days we'll longingly look back on are the same ones that are full of nappy changes, never-ending laundry and the smell of regurgitated milk on all our clothes. It just doesn't feel like it right now.

I know in my heart that today is 'those days' but I'm also glad today happens to be Friday.

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.