pepperknit

Lately the knitting has been sitting in a pile on the coffeetable—three ongoing projects all in need of some attention, hence, they are being ignored. What do I do in these situations? I break out the cross stitch. I just love the meditative quality of stitching—more meditative than knitting, for me. Because there’s absolutely no thought involved in stitching; I count, and I watch the boxes fill in. When I’m knitting, I’m thinking, designing, planning, perfecting. The scope for perfection in cross stitch is very narrow, and I love it.

When I decided to return to the stitching, I had to spend the first hour taking out about, I don’t know, 200 stitches that were all placed one stitch too low. In some ways, I don’t know how much it would have mattered to the final product (other than being one stitch larger)–it’s going to just be a cloudy sky, nothing that requires precision. But it would have been impossible to figure out how to stitch the whole thing with this erratic misplaced shape. I hope I’ll have enough of that floss left to use fresh thread, but really, there are like 6 other colors that look practically identical, so it shouldn’t matter.

Which brings me to the only problem with this project. It’s too abstract. There’s no satisfaction in finishing up the latest tree, or shape, or border. Instead, it’s, “wow, I just filled in all the ‘/‘ within that area of the image, and it makes . . . no recognizable shape at all.” I’m thinking I might need to buy a new cross stitch project, something that looks like something, but finding cross stitch that I like is really tough.

A lot of my friends who had cross stitched when kids express this, too—they think they’d actually want to dabble in it again, but they don’t actually want the finished product when it’s all over. So far my favorite large source for projects is Keepsake NeedleArts, which has such a large range that you’re bound to find something, and the stock changes pretty regularly (this sky project, for instance, is no longer in the catalog—and the designer’s site is not live right now). Googling “cross stitch kits” is a real crapshoot. This Cross-Stitch Art site has some nice pieces. I just found The Stitchery, which is another one with a large stock. Anyone else know of a good source?

I never quite understood the difference between a true process knitter and a product knitter until recently. I knew, deep down, that I am not a process knitter, but I couldn’t grasp what it would feel like to be one. I mean, I like the process of knitting! I like forming stitches–stockinette is satisfying, sure. A friend once tried to explain to me how the finished object is like some happy surprise “when it happens.” That got me closest to understanding; in fact it emphasized how much I am NOT a process knitter–I love the finished object! This is probably why I knit so many small things and can’t get through sweaters.

Anyway, I started a cross stitch project in the spring, and lately I’m obsessed with it. In working each stitch, I’ve realized that I’m a true process stitcher. I don’t really care about having the final project. This could go on forever, stitches upon stitches, and that would be fine. It took me a long time to find a project that I would be happy to have the finished picture, but I was close to buying something that just had a lot of stitching interest because I didn’t care what it would look like at the end.

Here it is with one color done:

Pretty impossible to parse out, huh? It will eventually look like this, if I ever get that far. I’m taking a very disciplined approach to this, and I’m doing one color at a time, in its entirety. I’ll take a photo after each color. I meant to take a photo of the back at the same time, but forgot–maybe I’ll start when I finish the second color.

What’s amazing about it is that it takes a lot of time, you see lots of progress, and it is so entirely meditative. Requires no thought whatsoever–it’s perfect for me these days! But now that the weather is starting to turn to fall, my desire to knit is growing . . . Will start planning projects soon.

The last time Rachel’s sister-in-law Rachel and I interacted, we were communicating via aggressive cameraphone shots on Rachel (the blogger)’s cell phone. So it’s only natural that she and I would rent a car and drive 6 hours together Thursday night in order to visit with our only amicable link, with the inevitable return trip on Sunday.

I could not have made a more rash or foolish decision. Rachel (blogger) and I had been talking recently, and she’d extended an invitation for a weekend visit at her family’s lake house with her husband, Matthew. I’m sure she’s regretting this as well. Because little did she expect me to actually take her up on it–it was probably one of those “Oh, yeah, we’d love for you to come . . . You should . . . Yeah, um, if you can. I mean, if it’s not really expensive or time consuming. Sure, if you want” invitations. But in a random act of “spontaneity”–planned a week in advance–I took her up on the invite.

The car ride was interminable. There was no talk about a shared interest in movies, or books, or anything else. No singing along to the radio. It was a painful 6+ hours.

We fought over which way to go.

We fought over what to listen to.

And then we settled into a stony silence.

Later, we stopped for food and bedgrudgingly ate at this small Irish hamburger joint together.

Finally, at 1 in the morning, we arrived at the lakehouse. Rachel and her husband, Matthew, welcomed us and we all promptly went to bed. The next day was idyllic, sitting by the lake stitching/reading/knitting, lazing in the heavenly lake, and trying our best to overcome our differences.

(Yes, I’m cross-stitching while Rachel knits. I’ve been very distracted from knitting, and cross-stitch offers me just the right amount of meditative action while affording me absolutely zero creativity–just what I wanted this summer.)

Next up: Minty takes a sail, Rachel Sr and I finally overcome our differences, and we sadly leave Lake Winnipesaukee.