When an Autumn chill is in the air, and the leaves start to turn I get a hankering to sew. I don’t know why, except there’s those stocking projects my mom had us work on in the fall, to be ready for Christmas. I have one of these stocking projects in the basement, unfinished. And I could drag it out and work on it.
But, what I’d really like to do is learn to knit or crochet. I don’t know how to do either one. One uses a single needle and the other needs two, right?
Knitting seems to have a meditative quality that feels good in the fall. At least in my imagination. As you nest under blankets while watching TV and you have to talk yourself into braving the chill before you crawl out of bed in the morning. The time of year when only a hot bath will warm my freezing feet. When you get to put on layers and layers of clothes and walk around in peacock blue jackets. When you get to sport knee socks in hip and zig-zaggedy colors. And leather boots. When you get to drape yourself in colorful scarves (if I don’t find my orange pashmina scarf I’m gonna be so disappointed). When caramel is the taste of the season, and cocoa, hot and milky with sticks of peppermint and tiny marshmallows floating on top. When gourds and candles become the decor of choice. And orange is orange and it’s everywhere and it’s still my favorite color and I wear it almost every day. (Where is that scarf?)
I like to envision me and Ainsley, with Zack snuggled at my hip, knitting together while we take in the sublime perfection of Fall Sitcoms and a bowl of popcorn.