it's not the pattern and definitely not the yarn. it's me. i'm a loose knitter. i get irritated when i have to knit tightly. and toys need a tight knit so all the fluff doesn't come out.
i didn't do very well with this bear.i wouldn't let you come near it. it really does look awful up close.
i did better with this rocket ship.
but i didn't love knitting either of these toys the way i should have. this knitting thing, it's a hobby, you know? it shouldn't be a pain in the butt. i mean, like anything else, there are moments of frustration. but i shouldn't be annoyed while knitting the thing.
i should've have enjoyed stomping all over the bear the way that i did. and i shouldn't have wanted to torch it before giving it to her, for example.
why go through the trouble? why not just put down the knitting and be done with it, you ask? sigh. because i am a strange, sentimental, hopeless romantic. because i wanted to give my babies something i made with my hands, something that - i hope - would give them hours and hours of joy and extended play, and comfort and love - just the smallest bit of what they give to me everyday.
i know it's silly. especially when it's the bling and the flash of all the plastic, fast-talking, battery-operated toys of the world that still their little beating hearts. but the knitting, it's like making magic - something from nothing but string. which make these knitted gifts a bit of a metaphor: materials + hard work + patience + room for imperfection = magic for the imagination to do what it will.
so, i'm not going to say that i'm never knitting toys again. the boy has requested a dragon, after all. and this faerie is adorbs. and wouldn't they love a submarine? i'm just saying that i guess i'll have to get better at making this kind of magic. or something.
or not.
they love books, after all. same kind of magic, someone else's job.
good enough for me.
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