When I first started this blog, I had absolutely no idea how to knit, and no hope of ever learning. You were it for me, and we were happy together. While I still have a fondness in my heart for hooks and cheap yarn, I have to admit it’s time to move on.
From the moment I learned how to balance two needles wrapped in superfine alpaca and do a long-tail cast on, I’ve been in love. Mad, passionate, ridiculous love. I not only knit, I am a knitter. It is in evidence in every room of my house (there are needles in the kitchen and various projects in the laundry room), from the moment one walks in the front door. I feel like I need to embrace my new identity in order to be the person I’m truly meant to be.
Please don’t feel used, although you are still the most efficient way to pop out a baby blanket before the kid graduates from high school. I will always remember the nights we spent huddled together in front of the fireplace, the plane flights to not so exotic locations, the long hours spent in waiting rooms on the other side of security gateways. You took me places that needles may never get to go, but it’s just not enough anymore.
I know there are others out there who will appreciate you the way I once did. You still make beautiful lace…doilies. Your afghans are warm, comfortable, and fast. You look fabulous in bargain bin acrylic. But I have needs. NEEDS.
Don’t worry. You don’t have to leave right away. I mean, we do need time to tell our friends that my address will be changing to knitpurltink.com.
My hooks will still be kept in a vase in my craft room, although they may be a bit dusty from disuse. I won’t forget you. And remember, it’s not you, it’s me.