Women in the Raspberry Filling years like to take up hobbies. We want to fill time
formerly spent washing thousands of acres of spit-stained clothes, preparing thousands of pounds of mac and cheese, traveling thousands of miles to soccer practice, music lessons and dance recitals. Raspberry Filling Women who never had children may already have their hobbies mastered and take pity on us, their empty nest sisters, as we attempt to redirect Mommy-fingers and retrain Mommy-brains.
Personally, I like to double up on my hobbies.
Recently, on the challenge of a Facebook friend, I took up knitting. I began with a dishcloth. When it was apparent the only thing holding it together was mistakes I pulled it out and started over. The sixth time I did this I noticed the yarn was losing some of its zing. It was looking disheveled, disheartened even. I took pity and forged ahead. With stamina and grit I turned a stoic blind eye to the errors and somehow got it completed, although I am quite certain my method of getting the yarn off the needles was unorthodox.
A folk legend tells us that Amish women are such expert quilters, they intentionally stitch mistakes into their quilts to keep the ladies from the sin of pride.
How do you like that? Do you want to explain how INTENTIONALLY erring to avoid perfection can keep you humble? I’ll tell the Amish ladies how to keep humble.
Knit like I do.
Count up your errors.
Humility will abound.
Which leads me to my idea of doubling up on hobbies.
The blue dishcloth is my creation. My mom, who could knit like nobody’s business, made the yellow one. Here is a fun little ‘test your visual acumen’ game to play in your spare time. I like to call it ‘Find the Errors in Blue’.
Count up the mistakes in my dishcloth. Give me one humility point for each one you find.
Keep a spotter point for yourself.
And then tell an Amish quilter that you know someone who can out-humble her faster than you can say knit one and yarn over.