Needles & Threads

I love to read people’s blogs. I usually end up reading some random and wildly crafty blog that makes me jealous. I find these blogs through other people’s blogs links and so on and so forth. Too bad I can’t figure out to fix my blog so it’s one that everyone has on the “must read” list.

I’ve always had a desire to be a crafty person. I am creative by nature but my creativity is often mowed over by the daily routine.

For instance, I remember when I first graduated college. It was taking forever to get my first job and I was getting bored. I figured I had always wanted to learn how to sew. So I started calling around to find sewing lessons. I got offered a job the next day. The sewing lessons never happened.

In high school I was the ultimate creative person. I practiced my French horn no less than 2 hours a day. I had dance team practice every night after school. I wrote poetry all the time filling up countless journals with a teenager’s heartbreaking tales of lust. I went to a Forensics tournament almost every weekend, pouring my heart out with rich dramatic interpretations in front of total strangers. I never even blushed a little. I loved every minute of it.

I have never had the desire to be the stereotypical woman. The woman that society tells us to be everyday. Barefoot, pregnant and in the kitchen. Sorry, but that’s just not me. I always knew I wanted to be a mother but I wanted to do it all. Motherhood, career, friendships as well as learn new hobbies.

But as I stood barefoot, pregnant and in the kitchen eating my bowl of frosted mini wheats this morning, I figured that it’s okay to have a desire to learn to do more domesticated hobbies. It doesn’t make me old-fashioned. It doesn’t make me a bad example of the 21st century woman. It just makes me curious about the unknown and maybe a little bit bored with reality television.

I read cooking blogs filled with photos of fantastic-looking culinary creations. I salivate at the descriptions and recipes. Moreso now than ever due to the pregnancy. But I’ve also fallen upon blogs about knitting and yarnwork and felt sad that I couldn’t do something like that myself. I’ve even read blogs about cleaning and organizing. The ultimate challenge for me. I hate cleaning. I mean LOATHE cleaning. But deep within me exists the desire to be ultra-organized and super clean. Why? Will it make me more of a woman? Probably not. Do I wish I cared enough about how I stack socks in my drawer? Do I wish that I cared enough to write an entire blog entry about it? Probably not. But I gather that it would make me feel less frantic in the morning when I’m trying to find a match to the black sock in my hand.

I also have a love of photography. But even after buying a $400 camera I still can’t figure out how to stop the blurry pictures. Sometimes Roxie will be in the cutest position making what I call a “people” face. Sometimes I think there really is a little person inside her. I quickly grab my camera and snap away only to have missed the moment due to a blurry photo. I’d like to take a class about photography and I long to buy a Digital SLR and learn to be a pro. Will I ever? It sure would make this blog a heck of a lot more exciting if I had better pictures.

I write this entry knowing that I might never learn how to knit. But at least I fully admit right here right now that it could only help me to learn something new. Isn’t that why we’re here? To learn, to grow, to be a better person overall? Soul-searching is a good thing, I think. Maybe I’ll call around to see about sewing lessons tonight. I could pick up where I left off six years ago and see if I’m any good with a needle and thread.

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