Well... just because, that's why.

Because it's beautiful.

I had an interesting conversation over a spinning wheel and a piece of chocolate cake. My friend asked the spinner, "Is it more economical to make your own yarn?" The spinner, who was turning some beautifully dyed roving into yarn so easily it looked like it was spinning itself, hesitated. I could see her working out how to answer the question.

I knew how to answer the question: No. Of course not. Even if you buy your own sheep and do everything yourself, the hours and hours of work alone make it less economical than going to a store and picking up a ball of yarn. You can buy ready-to-spin roving, but then you're paying someone else to do the work and you still have the time involved in spinning the yarn.

But the money is not the point.

It is the joy of the craft that is the point. It is making something with your own hands, knowing what to do and how, pride of ownership of a skill, and the blissful release that happens when your hands are busy and your mind roams free. Creation, any creation at all, feels good.

Dump a mound of playdoh on the table in front of some children and watch it happen. Turn a gardener loose in a garden. Give a kid (supervised) free-reign in a woodworking shop. Buy a knitter a few balls of beautiful yarn. Paint and paper. Fabric and sewing kit. A camera. Silverware and a vise. Glue and scissors. Pencil and notebook. Heck, what happens with ceramic glue, a stack of unused tea cups and an afternoon with no interruptions?

Beauty happens.

Creation can cost as much or as little as you chose, but economics is never, really,  the point.


What have you created lately? Making something with your hands is a great stress reliever. What do you do when the Muse hits?

The yarn pictured above is beautiful Noro Taiyo sock yarn that I bought at The Needle Emporium in Ancaster, Ontario. The pattern is called Drop City Scarf and is available on Ravelry.com here. The stitch markers were made by me after a plastic one destroyed a section of knitting. I made them using some beads I accidentally bought years ago and some old charms I had in my jewelry box.

Okay, okay, okay: New Year's Resolution

Let's get this 2014 party started.

Writing-wise, 2013 was an odd year.

I sold a short story (GAH!) and felt like I was starting something fantastic, at last! But what followed was eight months of... WRITER'S BLOCK.

I deleted more words this past year than ever before, failed NaNoWriMo miserably and my well of ideas completely dried up. Another short story I sent out got a rejection letter that was, well, horrible.

It was so easy in December to bake, work at my paying job, stitch and burrow.

For the first time in years, I made no resolutions for 2014, and that was okay, dammit. I don't have to answer to anyone.

Except myself. Shoot.

So here they are, my New Year's Resolutions:

1. Get running again. Exercise makes even the worst rejections feel like compliments.

2. Write every day. The only way to wake up the Muse is to poke her repeatedly with keystrokes.

3. Collect more rejection letters. Use them to wallpaper the bathroom.

4. Make connections. Use them.

5. Kiss more.

Have you overcome New Year's Resolution Apathy? What goals have you set for 2014?

Now off to do some of that kissing.

And I'm meant to brag. Here's the anthology my story appears in. I'm a bit in awe of the writers I'm sharing space with. Thanks to our great editor, James R. Tuck.

You can purchase the book here. Or come by for tea and a paperback.