I knit.

In this world there are two kinds of knitters: process and product. Process knitters knit to enjoy the process of creating something. They knit to learn new techniques, to master their craft. The act of knitting is a journey to them, and it is where they find most of their enjoyment, be it learning new things, enjoying the company and wisdom of others, or simply finding new modes of self expression. I knit for all of these reasons, but I am not a process knitter.

The product knitter has the end goal in mind: the finished piece. The product knitter enjoys the act of knitting, but is always striving to complete things for the end product. Whether it be to wear the finished garment oneself, give it as a gift or share it with others, the product knitter wants to go through the journey for the end prize. I am a product knitter.

This shouldn't surprise me. I knit to be creative. I knit because I have passion, and a love of color and creating things. I knit because I have free time and because I like to see things take shape before my eyes. I knit because it is one of the few things in my life I can control. I can choose the pattern (or not to go with one at all), the colors, what I make, how fast I make it, and who gets the end product. I knit because these days, it seems it is one of the few things I can excel at.


So it should come as no surprise to me that this month, when things are most out of control and uncertain, that knitting has become essential to my emotional well being. Or that I was almost undone tonight by a sock.

A week or so ago, I decided to dedicate this month to knitting socks and finishing up projects on the needles. A sock is a quick project - a pair takes me a week. Most of the projects that are on the needles are well near the finish line, I just haven't given each enough time to get it there. Clearly, because I am in limbo in the rest of my life, I want all my products lined up neatly in a row.

So when I started a new sock last night, I was dismayed, and almost undone by the fact that I had to rip this yarn three times and start over. The first two times were attempts at patterns that were entirely too large for my foot - no one seems to write sock patterns for size 6. Sometimes I can adjust the pattern, sometimes I can't. I finally decided on a pattern late last night and set off with gusto through the cuff, ignoring my mistakes in the second row. Tonight I started the leg when I realized that something had gone wrong, nothing was aligning and I needed to pull it out yet again.

I'll be fine tomorrow. I'm even feeling better writing this, but I understand why I needed this to work and why I need to get to the finished sock. Now please excuse me while I go pray to the Patron Saint of Socks.