I took up knitting last year when life was especially difficult. I'm not certain why exactly. I saw all those women last year knitting the pink pussy hats and I just said, "You know what? I'm going to take up knitting." So I did. When I can't write because my toddler finds my computer offensive, I knit, which he also finds offensive, but I find much easier to do with him around. So far I have knitted various hats, scarfs, one beret that I found damn near impossible, a blanket for charity, two tank tops, and finger less gloves. I am obsessed with the feel of yarn and watching my project grow stitch by stitch. I realize that it helps my writing. Each sentence is another row of stitches and each project is marked by the events of my life.

The beanie I knitted for my best friend's new baby happened during my miscarriage. The beret I found impossible, I knitted on a trip to Shreveport to visit my husband's family while listening to Dean Koontz's, The Silent Corner. I knitted a tank top for a friend during a swim competition and the next day, I was knitting when my cab crashed head on into someone on my way home from the airport. The scarf I am working on now is a Harvey project, knitted by candlelight on occasion and still not finished. I didn't need another hobby, but it was the hobby I needed during a difficult time in my life. I wish I had learned sooner.