A Promise Kept

I'm the first person to admit that I have a commitment problem. It's very easy to start off a project with all sorts of energy and excitement, but it quickly peters out. I'm always looking with longing at other projects. Or I get inspired by something and will toss my current project to the side without a second thought.

So when I first got the idea to do this shawl a month project, there was a little voice that said that I wasn't actually going to be able to finish it. Sure, I'd do it for a while, but eventually my nature was going to catch up with me and I'd give up.

But I didn't. I actually didn't. I accomplished what I set out to do. Sure, it was hard. There were times I was ready to burn my projects in frustration. But I pushed myself through. And now I have 8 new shawls in my collection, and 4 that were gifted to people who love them. (Fun fact: I calculated how much yarn went into these 12 shawls and came up with nearly 4.5 miles of yarn...)

Each shawl taught me something about myself, my craft, or about the world itself. And I'd like to share those lessons with you. Starting with this monstrosity.

Orchid Thief, the wooly black hole, taught me to always pay attention to the damn pattern. Read thoroughly and carefully, lest you end up with a giant nightmare. When making changes, CHECK, DOUBLE CHECK, AND TRIPLE CHECK!

Rushing blindly ahead isn't always the best idea. Taking a moment to think about and consider what you're about to do can save you a lot of heartache down the road.

Art and Coffee taught me that just because you hated doing something once doesn't mean that will always be the case.

I had tried a striped shawl before and couldn't get past the first couple rows without getting frustrated. I gave it another go with this one and absolutely adore them now. It's an easy way to get an interesting color combo without having to do tedious color work. I have my 3rd striped shawl on the needles right now, as a matter of fact.

Grey Skies taught me the value of being able to improvise on the fly. 

I hit a bit of a roadblock when it came to adding the secondary edging on this shawl. My stitches weren't adding up and I wasn't about to rip everything out to start over. Being skilled enough to improvise a solution and make it work is valuable in all aspects of life and a value that I hold dearly.

With Rainshine I learned that sometimes it IS okay to choose to do a project that you love over everything else.

I had intended to do something completely different that month. Something that should have been done sooner. What it was, I don't even remember. But this yarn had been haunting me and I had to make something with it. So I said fuck it and went for it. And it made me so dang happy to do so. This shawl is definitely one of my favorites for a reason.

Yarn Wife showed me that I have a lot more talent than I think I do. 

Striking out and creating your own pattern from scratch is terrifying and challenging in so many different ways. Especially designing lace work. This shawl was my very first completely original design. It's not the most complicated one I've done, but I'm still very proud of myself for doing it and having it come out as well as it did.

Kelp was a hard lesson. I learned that I'm not going to love every single thing I make. 

Sometimes, I'm going to make things out of obligation, not out of any true excitement or wanting. And the finished project may be lovely, but it's okay if I don't love it myself. 

I always feel enormous pressure to be excited and happy and satisfied with my knitting projects. But that's not always going to be the case. And that's okay. Sometimes you do the things you need to and let them go afterwards without a second thought or regret.

If Kelp taught me that's okay to not like things, Steam Bells definitely taught me that I can also absolutely hate things.

I despise this shawl. I hate everything about it. The yarn. The way the pattern worked up. The frustration and rage I had when I was blocking it and had it rip. It's ugly. It's annoying. And I'm going to happily pass it off to someone else eventually.

Sometimes projects are going to get you angry. Make you hate everything about them. Finishing them becomes a way to defeat the damn thing. It's revenge. You beat it despite it throwing everything it possibly can in your way. 

It's okay to hate these things. Not everything is rainbows and sunshine. Let that anger out and move onto a much more pleasing project.

Gem In Eyes taught me that the best laid plans sometimes get smashed by the giant "fuck you" fist that is life.  And you're going to end up hella disappointed.

I had originally intended on knitting two of these shawls in August. I wanted Jamie and I to have matching ones. I had all these lovely plans of how it would be revealed and it was going to be so wonderful and romantic. (I'm a giant, mushy, lovey nerd... Sue me.) 

Instead, I barely got the one finished and sent out. I didn't get to post on our actual anniversary because my mental illnesses were kicking my ass. I was so disappointed and a bit angry with myself. But I can't control everything, no matter how hard I try. Life's gonna get you at some point.

Polar Bear in a Snowstorm showed me that sometimes simple is satisfying. And to take pleasure in unexpected surprises.

As I said, sometimes simple is what you need in a project. A straightforward, no frills creation. NO wild patterns, weird instructions... just some simple knitting. 

I just wanted something to look nice with the new dress I had bought, so I grabbed this yarn out of the stash and started improvising. I had no idea that this yarn was a gradient until I wound it up. As I was working with it, I was delighted how it looked. I never expected it to turn out like it did. It was a good, satisfying project and just what I needed at the time.

Mermaid Lair... oh, Mermaid Lair... it taught me that sometimes things are worth the effort. And that effort is going to show.

This was the shawl that took me the longest to do over the year. It was by far the most complicated shawl I've done to date. The amount of beadwork is only rivaled by Celestarium. I had a few setbacks, including almost running out of yarn. But when she was done and off the blocking board, I wept with happiness. 

It still astounds me that I made this with my own hands. But really, it's not that surprising. The years of knitting experience I have led me to be able to make such a magnificent piece. I put the time and effort in to learn, to understand, to grow. And she reflects that.

Flying Scotsman, well, I learned that sometimes it is about the process and not the finished piece.

I don't know what the hell I was thinking when I decided on this shawl for November's project. It's the opposite of everything I love to do. But I thought it'd be fun. 

I was wrong. I didn't enjoy making this shawl. But I was still happy that I did it. As I worked on it, it cemented what I knew was already true about my knitting. I will always love lace and beads and complicated charts more than anything else. Colorwork like this is just not for me, no matter how much I wish otherwise. 

I'm happy with this shawl. I like how it looks. My knitting was pretty solid. But I doubt I'll do anything like this in the near future.

And that brings us to Ashton. I think the most important thing I learned from her was that I can handle whatever life throws in my way so long as I'm willing to change the plan a little. And to reach out for help when I need it.

December was one of the toughest months I've dealt with in quite a while. And I didn't think I was going to meet my deadline. I kept having to change what I had originally envisioned for this shawl, which would have normally had me frustrated and in tears. But my loved ones kept me going. John took up the bulk of the work around the house to make sure I had enough time to knit. He stood on the sideline, cheering me on. He helped me to logic out what I needed to do to get through this last project.

Throughout the year, so many others told me how proud they were of me as I worked and worked. They were patient when the shawls took priority over some requests. And when I finished one, they celebrated with me. It really showed me just how much a good support network can change your life. 

So to them, I say thank you for everything.

Completing this journey has filled me with a confidence and pride that I didn't think was possible for me to experience. To some people, I'm sure that it doesn't seem like that big of an accomplishment. 

But for me, someone who has only recently learned how to have some self-esteem, it's a astronomically important accomplishment. It was a promise I kept to myself. One that I had to work long and hard to fulfil. 

And now, at the end of it, I can look back and smile. See what I accomplished. Wear my hard work. And get ready for the next journey.

It's a new year. And there's new magic to be made. 

Onwards, friends. 

Making Myself

December's Shawl...

The last one of my year long goal.

At first, I wasn't sure what pattern to do. I wanted it to be special. Something to really end the year with a bang.

I thought about designing something original again. But that would have been too much to do with Christmas and the massive amount of dogsitting I was doing.

I thought about just using the scraps from all the other shawls I made to make a basic wrap. But I would have hated doing it, honestly.

So, I went hunting through my favorites on ravelry, waiting for something to call to me.

I rediscovered Ashton.

What better way to end this journey than making my namesake? I'm nothing if not vain.

The next struggle was picking what yarn to use.

See, I've had this in my favorites for forever. My name isn't exactly common, especially with my spelling. So I've always held off on making it because I wanted it to be perfect. I wanted it to reflect me as a person. I had a legacy to uphold. I had to show my name off well.

The obvious choice was to use green. I mean, it's what always expected of me, right? But my heart was pulling me in the opposite direction. I surprisingly went with a deep cranberry red.

Actually, maybe it's not that surprising. My library, my resting place from the world, is swathed in all shades of red. Garnet, ruby, scarlet, cranberry... they're all here, surrounding me in fire. This yarn, this beautiful flame, was the perfect choice.

And let's not forget... red is a perfect folio for green. This shawl was going to make my green glow.

I ended up choosing MadelineTosh Feather in a club exclusive color called Soft Fury. (Not going to lie, the name was part of the reason why I went with this choice.)

I also decided to add some beads to the body of the shawl. If this shawl was going to be a reflection of me, I couldn't forget the shiny bits.

I had intended on adding them throughout the whole thing, but as the month went by and things got more and more stressful, I made the decision to not use any on the edgings. I just wanted to get this done and beading was only going to slow me down.

Which, coincidentally, ended up being another reflection of myself. I'm not perfect and sparkly and golden all the time. When things get overwhelming, or my mental illnesses kick in, the shine is dulled down and muddied.

And that's okay. Everything needs balance.

You already know about my struggles to get her done in time. But I did it. I finished her. I set out and accomplished my goal. And she is everything I could hope for as the conclusion to this journey.

Not the most complicated shawl I've done. Not the biggest. Not the most ornate.

But still beautiful and wonderful and warm.

Leaves and lace. Beads. Perfect points.

A reminder of warmth in the crystalline cold.

A soft fire for my emerald self.

A conclusion. And a starting point. A lesson learned and one to be taught. A beginning and an end.

It's a new year. It's the end of a year. It's both the twilight and the dawn.

This journey is over.

But the next one is just starting.

Let's jump into the next adventure, friends.

We've got a whole new world of possibilities.

***************

Fun Little Post Script

It was roughly as cold as a polar bear's arse today. And I knew that I wanted to wear my white lace dress to take pictures with this shawl. I thought it'd look great against it, especially with the snow we've had.

Did I mention that the dress is EXTREMELY THIN COTTON and SLEEVELESS?!

All the pics in my shawl up there? Yeah, I was FREEZING my arse off just to get decent pics.

Y'all better appreciate what I do for you. <3

One Last Gift

It's a little before midnight on New Year's Eve.

I posted a few days ago about me not getting my shawl done in time for the deadline.

I truly thought I wouldn't.

But I kept working on it. A few rows here and there, when I had a moment to stop.

Those rows added up without me noticing. And I woke up this morning, realizing that I had just 17 rows and a bind-off between me and the end of this shawl.

I didn't think I could do it. That's a lot to do on a day when I had other errands to run. But I felt that familiar spark. The one that always leads me to calling on Henry for another impossible challenge.

So, I took a breath, grabbed my needles, and got to work. I knit all morning. I knit during lunch. On the car rides between stops. I even knit in the dark on the way home.

And when we got home, John told me to get my arse upstairs and finish it. He'd take care of putting away the shopping. He was almost as determined as I was to see me finish.

And I did.

I finished it.

It's not washed or blocked. The ends haven't been woven in. But it is off the needles and around my shoulders for the moment. She's going to be beautiful when the little bit of finishing work is done. But for now, I'm simply grateful for what she is.

Twelve shawls in twelve months seemed like an impossible challenge when I started it. I figured I'd give up at some point. But I didn't.

There's a lot of feelings going on right now, and some thoughts I have, but those are for another post.

Tonight, I'm going to enter the new year feeling determined and invigorated. And grateful for this one last gift of holiday magic.

Quiet Setbacks

My goal was to have shawl number 12 done and blocked by New Year's Eve. But that's just not going to happen.

This month has been one of the roughest ones of our lives. We lost a beloved family member, as well as a... well, I'm not sure how I would refer to them. Someone in our lives, let's put it that way.

Funerals, dog sitting, break-ups in the family, struggling with my mental health...

Not to mention trying to do some Christmas presents.

It's been overwhelming.

I've been trying to work diligently on Ashton, but I recognize when things are truly impossible. She's not getting done by the deadline I set for myself.

I'm trying to not beat myself up too much, but it still stings.

But I'm not giving up entirely.

Ashton will be finished. And she will be finished soon.

This is a setback, not a surrender.

Onwards we march, dear friends.

All the Promise

I HATE Christmas Day.

HATE it.

Can't stand it. Wish I never had to live through it.

This is probably a wee bit of a shock to most of you who know me.

I mean, my Christmas decorations usually go up before Thanksgiving. And they're up until at least March. 

I love giving and receiving all manner of hand made gifts, baked goods, and Christmas cards.

I'm all about the tinsel and fairy lights and the tree with all its glittering finery.

But I hate Christmas Day.

It's when the magic is over. The lights are turned off, the decorations are taken down. The stories are resolved. 

All the promise and magic and wonder... it's over.

Not to be seen for another whole year.

But Christmas Eve? 

Oh, Christmas Eve makes my heart sing.

Christmas Eve is the night of magic and mysterious machinations. The lights are all glowing, the presents wrapped and waiting. All the wonder and majesty one hopes for. 

For me, it's a time of love and gathering and fond memories of past Eve's at my dear grandparents. Food, laughter, joy. All the promise of hope and happiness in one magical night.

So, I wish you all the most magical and wonderful Christmas Eve. 

Eat the good food, open your presents, and surround yourself with those you love the most. 

Breathe your Christmas wish to the stars because tonight... well, tonight we all can believe that magic just might be real.

Grey

I woke up and the world was white.

The first snow. The first day of the season where the ground is covered in a layer of frozen glitter.

This is usually the most wondrous and blessed day of the year for me.
The day that brings me to tears and lights a smile on my face. My cheeks rosy, and my demeanor happy and bright as John and I, bundled up, walk out through the icy world.

But not this year.

My depression hit in full force last night. Coupled with an overwhelming anxiety that I haven't had in a long time. The kind where I woke up, screaming in panic. I found no rest.

I could barely pull myself out of bed, but I have obligations to fulfill nearly every day this month. I have no choice but to push myself to move, to think, to breathe.

So, I'm sitting here. Writing this out. Waiting for dogs to finish their breakfast. Something to keep me from collapsing on the ground in utter despair.

I look out the window and at the snow, blessed and lovely, but I don't see it all. I only see shades of grey.

Flying Away

November's shawl... well, it's done.

Has been since Thanksgiving Day.

And I...well... let me tell you a bit about this shawl. I, for some ridiculous reason, decided that a shawl that was pretty much the epitome of everything I dislike doing in knitting would be a perfect project to tackle.

A big, solid colored blob of stockinette, weird increases, flat colorwork, ribbing, cables... all in one project.

Yep.

And it came out... fine,  I guess.

The colorwork was pretty solid.

And the faux-cables (the only thing that I ended up liking doing!) are lovely.

But this shawl just isn't... me.

It just doesn't feel right when I try to wear it. It just feels off somehow.

I couldn't even fake a smile when we were taking pictures.

See? Not happy. Not enthused. Not ready to add this one to the collection.

Apparently, Henry had me knit it for someone else. He just didn't bother to let me know until after I was done with it.

So, this one is going to fly away to the someone it was meant to belong to.

And that's perfectly fine with me.

Besides, I already have this month's shawl on the needles. And in true Ashtan fashion...

It's going to be big...

Beaded...

And named after me.

Let's end this year, this project, and this journey with a bang, eh?

Because next year is already promising to be just as exciting.