The feel of fiber is addicting to me. Walking through a knitting store cannot be done without putting my hand in the bins and squeezing the skeins. My hands float across fabrics in quilt shops. It is not a smell, but a tactile sensation that keeps me in the store and begs me to take something home. The touch generates visions of creation and completion that drives me to the checkout counter with 4 skeins of purple cashmerino yarn for a baby sweater, although I have never knitted a sweater in my life.
It's an addiction I can live with. Particularly now that the kids have moved out and I have a sewing room, although that is not the best name for this room. It's a room of dreams and creative spirit. And it's my sanctuary. There I can work alone with my thoughts.
My stash of fabrics, yarns, knitting needles, patterns, and quilt kits lures me in, only to lose hours remembering all the beautiful ideas I have gathered. I make lists of the order I want to do my cross-stitch projects; lists of Christmas gifts to be created in this room; lists of what I am missing in order start various projects - size 4 double point needles, DMC embroidery thread # 210, new rotary blades.
In additon to fiber addiction, I am addicted to gardening. In the winter I drool over gardening books and magazines, early spring I start seeds indoors, spring and early summer I plant, summer I spend manicuring and deadheading and in the fall I prepare for the next season by planting garlic and cleaning out flower beds.
Mixed in, over and under my love of fabrics, thread, yarn and flowers is my love for my family. With three beautiful daughters, a handsome son, three adorable grandchildren and a loving and encouraging husband my heart overflows with love.
