Knitting the Labyrinth

The semester is underway and I’m already so far behind, I can’t see the catch-up line in the foggy distance. I have three classes, several presentations or readings coming up, and the U’s student literary organization has a journal to publish by April. Let’s see…that leaves about 8 hours in 24 to eat/sleep/bathe, blog, and tend to the ever-demanding Row zoo. Family, friends & fun…hmmm…I guess I could cut back on bathing.

So I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed, and when the shifty feel cornered, they knit. For me, knitting works like koans, a labyrinth, or conundrums—those unfathomable puzzles that keep the mind or body simultaneously cranking away and at rest. Knitting is meditative—breathing & heart rate slow, blood pressure drops, twitching stops, muscles untwist, and for a minute or two, I’m once again a tolerable human being.

I have several projects going right now, including gorgeous alpaca & mohair fingerless gloves, a blue scarf/hat set knit partly with ribbon, and a kiwi scarf/hat set with splashes of red. I knit at night, when my brain can no longer process information or solve problems. I use fuzzy yarns and warm, softly-clacking wood needles. I drink wine or hot tea. I knit with a dog in my lap. I’ll stash the finished stuff in a basket and haul it out for Christmas presents next year.

But prairie folk are always looking for a better mousetrap. So I’m currently conducting an efficiency study to see if knitting plastic grocery bags into festive beanies, which I’ll knit on plastic needles WHILE I shower, would free up an extra 10 minutes I could spend with Ray, Mom, the kids & friends, without sacrificing personal hygiene. Think how grateful they’d be…for the cool hats, I mean.