My new motto

I have been trying to find a new motto for life, both personal, professional, and knitterly. I think I have it. Two words:
Beautiful imperfection.
It captures how I look at life, seize the moment, and how I embrace and accept my foibles. I am not going to try to be anal about my personal or professional life anymore. I spent too much time worrying about it. My quirks make me who I am, and I would like to think that people love me in spite and because of them. I want to celebrate myself for all of me, warts, beauties, and all! Life is too short to count the mistakes! Forgive others and hope that they will do the same! Don't burn bridges for nothing, but don't throw your pearls before swine! You are worth wonderful people, friends, and things! Go out and get them!

No, the world is not coming to an end. I am doing 2 posts in one day.

No folks. And when I say folks, I mean the one reader, even if there is one reader, that I have, I am refering to them all as "folks." I have been contemplating the concept of podcasts. When I first started venturing into the world of the online knitting community, I thought about someday doing a podcast. But I came to a revelation.
I can't do it. I just can't. I don't think that I have the dedication, the desire, the money for the computer equipment, or the computer that can take it. My husband is doing well to learn how to turn on the computer and check his email.
Our goal as a family (just me, hubby, and 2 mini schnauzers) is to simplify our life to the point where all we have is a large truck, and a large travel trailer to live in so that we can go where the work is and help those who are in need. We are both interested in becoming more fluent in our Spanish (we get by), and I speak ASL, so we would like to spend 1/2 our year in the Dominican Republic, where they use both.
Currently, I am a disabled housewife. I love knitting and crocheting. It is my addiction, my love. And I hope to have a little cupboard of yarn in my trailer. If I could find a way to just make a few patterns and sell them as pdfs on ravelry, that would be just enough for me. No solid patterns, no trunk shows, no grand enterprises. No podcasts. I notice that when I get into the community more, I neglect my life and the ones I love more.
I don't want to do that. I want to learn to snowshoe, love to hike, maybe kayak, learn photography, and not spend as much time inside. I want to live. I mean really live. But I want to incorporate my knitting and crocheting too, and hopefully make a little money at it.
Am I asking too much? Do you guys get what I mean? Any advice?

The Molly

It turns out that I did have one new development. I finished the Molly Beret by Alana Dakos. I made it for my friend Lindsay in the violet and biscuit colorways in the reccomended yarns. It turned out really well. All of Alana's patterns generally do. I liked the color combo that I chose. The only problem is that once I flubbed up and had to rip it back, it was insanely difficult to find my starting place. I had so much going on, I had to had my mom restart it for me. I was just too nervous to start again. But triumph at last takes hold. So here it is:

Standstill knitting, quotes with truth

Well, I have nothing new to report in knitting. For this I apologize. But in my defense, I would say that I am most likely going to need to move in a month or less. So my mortgage company is taking me hostage. They won't let me know distinctly when I must move. We are just eyeballing it and taking preventative measures. The place we thought that we would move has fallen through due to a massive family crisis, so we are going to need to look for other rentals.
Also, as I said, our family is going through a massive crisis of elephantine proportions. I will not reveal what it is, but everything else in the lives of myself and my husband has been forced to come to a complete standstill.
So this leads me to this most amusing quote. I would like to preface this by saying that, although I have my fair share of personal problems (and who doesn't?), that I am not a homicidal psychopathic maniac, nor should I be committed to a mental facility at this time. Here goes:"I knit so that I don't kill people." 'Nuff said.

Redaction

It has come to my attention that in my previous blog that my comments about my good friend, fellow blogger, and designer may have been misinterpreted as snarky. Please let it be known that it was not put out there with that intention at all. It is really difficult to discern the tone or attitude behind the written word sometimes. Most of the time, actually.
I would like to go on record that this person is dear to me. She is an awesome person, friend, designer, knitter, blogger, podcaster, etc, etc, etc. She has every right to be discerning in her taste for her patterns. She (that is to say her self and her taste) is her brand. It is how she makes a living for her family. She is right to be ferocious in guarding it. And I was wrong in being oversensitive. But just as she is touchy about her product, I am touchy about my knitting. I am proud of how and where I have gotten so far. But I do make mistakes. And I am trying to get over myself. And for that I am sorry.
So, in the end, I would like to apologize to my public for my perceived snarkiness. And I would like to apologize to my good friend for my overdeveloped sense of drama and pride. I hope that we can work again together professionally, but more importantly, I hope that we can still be friends. Because that is a bond more beautiful and important than anything.

Lessons Learned

Recently, I was commissioned to do a test knit for a close friend. I sent it back, and I was told that it could not be used because some twisted stitches were found. I was shocked. My mother is a knitting expert, and if this was one of my faults, you would think that she would have pointed it out to me. Not to mention, I am a perfectionist, and I went to great pains to work on this. So I have come to a realization. Several, actually.

My pride and ego was bruised. I thought that I was a lot more mature than that. Apparently not. I cried like a baby. Mostly because I take pride in my work and have never had any complaints yet. And I thought that test knitting for this person was the opportunity of a lifetime. An opportunity that was no more.

My pride comes before a fall. And as such, I have or had refused to do any more test knitting for the person in question in addition to refusing payment. Ouch.

This person has offered to help me change my ways and give me a second chance. For this I am grateful. And I do want to grow, improve, and change as a knitter. So, if I am screwing up, I want to get better. And I do want to test knit some more possibly. For this I thank her.

But here comes the liberating freedom and my epiphany. I am completely imperfect. I have been focusing on my commissioned works so much lately, of which there are several, that I had lost the joy I once had for knitting. And it's ok to make mistakes. The average person, with the exception of the aforementioned professional, won't notice or care. I take pride in my indiscretions. Knitting is for journeys, not destinations.

But, that being said, I will take pride in my work, screw ups or not. I will take leaps into new territories. And I will not accept payment for less than perfect work for professionals. And if some professional(s) should someday ask me to work for them (you know who you are), I will get a thick skin and accept criticism. But they will  get a thick skin and be ok if I decline their offer because it just doesn't seem like a joyful experience, I don't have time, or I don't think that my experience is up to it at that time. If it don't seem like fun, I ain't gonna do it anymore. I want to have tons of screwed up fun!