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Recipe for a yarning circle

 In Australia, a yarning circle is a way of communicating stories, experiences, and narratives, in an all-inclusive space without judgements. To me, that is what working with actual yarn is like. Whether you knit or crochet, each pattern, each project tells a story. A story that can be worn (literally as a cowl, scarf, socks, or sweater), and a story that can warm you (literally as a blanket), a story of the yarn itself (literally the material, the process by which it is produced, and the path it travels through the world to reach you, so you can make with it), and a story with you as your own friend, or with other yarning friends. All of this happens in a meditative space of generating, creating, making, talking to yourself, and other yarny friends, without judgements, in a safe space. Add to this some coffee or tea or wine, and some music. This is my recipe for a yarning circle from down under!  This is my Warli doodle, from the country of my childhood, India. It expresses the same
Recent posts

The simplest of tasks: from a skein to a ball

This Easter weekend, we went for our traditional trip to the city. Sydney downtown, for us, means taking the train to Central Station, walking to China town and Paddy's market, buying a bit of this and a bit of that (a pair of earrings this time to add to my collection of earrings from around the world), then eating wontons in hot chilli broth at our favourite china town place, finally walking down Darling Harbour, to the Queen Victoria building (QVB), where my son loves playing the public piano. His main love these days is Chopin, and he pulled quite a little happy crowd.  With all this under our belts, mum gets her treat - we go to Morris and Sons , the yarn shop on York Street, just 2 minutes from the QVB, that makes a yarn lover think that they are in a candy shop. Anyway, as always, my persistent observation that we knitters and crocheters end up buying way too much yarn. And well, it was Easter weekend after all, and I had been working crazy hard at the University, so I did

Saturday morning socks

Saturday morning, sunlight, tea, and whipping up a pair of quick socks for Young Teenager at home, who literally asked for them. What a happy mum I am! I think he has fond baby memories of wearing warm comfortable hand knitted socks, which are such an entirely different experience to store bought commercial socks. This is when socks cease to be a functional item, and become persons and memories - a childhood friendship you look back upon, the memory of your warm feet after a warm bath after a walk in the rain.  So, imagine my happiness when about the same time last week, he wakes up on a fine morning, walks into the living room and says - Can you knit me a pair of socks? My old ones don't fit anymore.  Knitting a pair of socks after a long time - has given me ideas for another quick design. Maybe I will post that as I cast on another pair, which I feel I am going to do, as soon as these are done (today).  And yes, that is Elizabeth Zimmerman's Opinionated Knitter for company -

New Pattern: The Mindfulness Cowl

 Finished and feeling absolutely wonderful around my neck, The Mindfulness Cowl ! First pattern on the blog!  Happy yarning, folks! 

Should I, shouldn't I? (Buy more wool)...

Every knitter and crocheter has a rather paradoxical relationship with yarn. You always know you have too much, but you cannot resist buying some more. You justify these extra purchases by telling yourself that you never spend on extravagant gifts for your loved ones, because well, you're just going to make something for them. And that a handmade gift, made with care and love, is a far nicer gift than playing the expensive and rather crazy game of brands and branded gift giving (which appears to be extraordinarily popular these days, and adds to me feeling like the village simpleton in parties with my handmade gift).  With all these consolatory thoughts (which are just ways of my lower mind justifying to its own higher self that it's completely ok to buy some more yarn), I confess that I routinely treat myself - on a nice sunny Saturday or Sunday, I go out of the house, absolutely alone, with no plans in mind, take my time, board a train or a bus, go into a wool shop, and spend