I few months ago I discovered a magical place called a haberdashery. These enchanting stores contain an array of wool, buttons and pointy sticks.
In need of a hobby for the sake of my sanity, during the long and gloomy winter nights I was determined I would find my hobby in the haberdashery.
I envisioned myself whipping up jumpers and socks and mittens as Christmas presents. Emboldened by this vision, I asked a lovely lady to show me how to be a knitter. Arming me with two pointy sticks and a hideous coloured ball of practice wool I was introduced to the garter stitch.
I was hooked.
I instantly bought wool and needles and set off home to create. I was a natural after watching a few youtube tutorials a couple of hundred thousand times. Until my husband exclaimed that 'even he could probably bloody knit from hearing it so many times'.
Now I must express dear reader, that I have never been very good at anything and certainly never the best. So I was overjoyed at my ability to create masterpieces with the pointy sticks!
My first masterpiece was a rather small chunky red scarf. I carried the scarf everywhere with me I was so excited I had managed to create something by making knotty loops. Yes, I carried the scarf, because as I mentioned it was too small and isn't scarf sized. Nonetheless I was proud of my achievement.
Giddy from the success with the garter stitch I ventured back into the haberdashery and purchased a hook. From this hook I created a blanket, my sisters dog became rather find of this blanket. Your welcome, Marley.
This delightful new hobby has become more of an obsession, I literally can not stop thinking wooly thoughts. I spend all my money on wool, I pin cute patterns to my Pinterest, I watch endless youtube tutorials and of course I knit and crochet in every spare second.
I think I have a problem, I'm a woolaholic.