Besides, she's long since gone and can't correct my revisionist view of my history.
Anyway, I digress. But when don't I?
I stumbled into an audiobook by Stephanie Pearl-McFee, the Yarn Harlot, Casts Off.
Frankly, I learned a lot.
She is the dream/ideal knitter. Not only does she have a stash of yarn that could rival most small yarn shops, but she actually reads directions and makes more than just squares and oblongs.
In the various essays about knitting communities, various types of yarn and storage of same, pattern successes and failures, she brought a lot of things home for me.
She talked about going to thrift stores to buy sweaters for her kids when they were little and money was tight and unraveling them to make something that would be appropriate and fit them. I had never thought about buying something to destruct it and create something new. When I see something someone has taken hours (probably weeks or months in real time) to produce, I don't ever have the heart to take it apart and rework it into something better.
I see them as gifts.
Gifts we give that we've made are so much more than just a 'craft'. Each stitch, is a thought of the ultimate recipient. It is a gift of love, time, patience, and ultimately the creator.
Tonight, I found an absolutely beautiful hand knitted scarf. It eclipsed anything I've ever made or had the patience to do (there is a reason I like crochet). For the cost of the item in the store, I couldn't have gone to a hobby, much less yarn, store to procure the materials. I left it there for someone else to buy and use.
How could I undo someone else's labor of love?
My own?
Not a problem.
