Why Knitting Is A Worthwhile Hobby

Why Knitting Is A Worthwhile Hobby

Knit, because why not?
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I am a 20-year-old grandma. I like baking, flowers, and playing cards. Technology baffles me, and my ideal Friday night involves peace, quiet, and early bedtimes. Because of my inner 80-year-old, I have an unwavering bias toward knitting.

Since we live in the 21st century, knitting has little practicality. After the invention of manufactured clothing, fussing with tangled yarn and wooden needles seems completely unnecessary. Knitting isn’t practical, and it isn't cool. However, I still love it.

Knitting is relaxing, or it becomes relaxing with experience. After initial struggles, your fingers memorize the movements and move smoothly and easily. Knitting helps channel nervous energy, and once you learn the stitches, you can settle that nervous energy into an easy rhythm.

Once you are relaxed, you can take time to sit in silence without feeling antsy. Wifi, texting and email accelerate our already fast-paced lives. We know we should slow down every once in a while to spend time with our thoughts. I do not mean to suggest that there is some mysterious link between knitting and soul-searching. However, I have been corrupted by Netflix, Spotify and Pinterest, and I find it hard to unplug and do nothing even when I want space to think. Knitting gives me a chance to sit in silence without going stir-crazy.

Knitting also gives me an excuse to take a break without feeling useless. While I do like to use knitting as a chance to unplug, I also like to knit while watching TV. Again, this ability may only come after some knitting experience, but once you can divide your attention between the screen and your project, it’s a way to kill guilt. After all, you’re not wasting your life and shutting off your brain; you’re making something.

Finally, knitting is just gratifying. It’s a chance to create. It’s not easy, and I have encountered numerous snags, dropped stitches, tangled messes, and mistakes. However, the challenges just make me even more ridiculously proud of the finished product. My first few projects were shapeless blobs, but now, I can play with color, patterns and stitches. I cannot explain the satisfaction that comes from freeing a project from the needles, looking at it and thinking, Yeah, I made that.

Unlike the millions of coloring books I made my way through as a child, knitting projects have uses whether functional or decorative. On top of that, you can give your knitted creations as gifts. A wonderful feeling accompanies gift-giving and giving something you made only amplifies that satisfaction.

If you want a hobby that makes you cool or edgy, knitting probably isn’t the way to go, but if you want a hobby that will give you some time to relax, sit down and create, you may want to give knitting a try.

Cover Image Credit: Pave Seattle

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A Letter To My Humans On Our Last Day Together

We never thought this day would come.
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I didn't sleep much last night after I saw your tears. I would have gotten up to snuggle you, but I am just too weak. We both know my time with you is coming close to its end, and I just can't believe it how fast it has happened.

I remember the first time I saw you like it was yesterday.

You guys were squealing and jumping all around, because you were going home with a new dog. Dad, I can still feel your strong hands lifting me from the crate where the rest of my puppy brothers and sisters were snuggled around my warm, comforting puppy Momma. You held me up so that my chunky belly and floppy wrinkles squished my face together, and looked me right in the eyes, grinning, “She's the one."

I was so nervous on the way to my new home, I really didn't know what to expect.

But now, 12 years later as I sit in the sun on the front porch, trying to keep my wise, old eyes open, I am so grateful for you. We have been through it all together.

Twelve “First Days of School." Losing your first teeth. Watching Mom hang great tests on the refrigerator. Letting you guys use my fur as a tissue for your tears. Sneaking Halloween candy from your pillowcases.

Keeping quiet while Santa put your gifts under the tree each year. Never telling Mom and Dad when everyone started sneaking around. Being at the door to greet you no matter how long you were gone. Getting to be in senior pictures. Waking you up with big, sloppy kisses despite the sun not even being up.

Always going to the basement first, to make sure there wasn't anything scary. Catching your first fish. First dates. Every birthday. Prom pictures. Happily watching dad as he taught the boys how to throw every kind of ball. Chasing the sticks you threw, even though it got harder over the years.

Cuddling every time any of you weren't feeling well. Running in the sprinkler all summer long. Claiming the title “Shotgun Rider" when you guys finally learned how to drive. Watching you cry in mom and dads arms before your graduation. Feeling lost every time you went on vacation without me.

Witnessing the awkward years that you magically all overcame. Hearing my siblings learn to read. Comforting you when you lost grandma and grandpa. Listening to your phone conversations. Celebrating new jobs. Licking your scraped knees when you would fall.

Hearing your shower singing. Sidewalk chalk and bubbles in the sun. New pets. Family reunions. Sleepovers. Watching you wave goodbye to me as the jam-packed car sped up the driveway to drop you off at college. So many memories in what feels like so little time.

When the time comes today, we will all be crying. We won't want to say goodbye. My eyes might look glossy, but just know that I feel your love and I see you hugging each other. I love that, I love when we are all together.

I want you to remember the times we shared, every milestone that I got to be a part of.

I won't be waiting for you at the door anymore and my fur will slowly stop covering your clothes. It will be different, and the house will feel empty. But I will be there in spirit.

No matter how bad of a game you played, how terrible your work day was, how ugly your outfit is, how bad you smell, how much money you have, I could go on; I will always love you just the way you are. You cared for me and I cared for you. We are companions, partners in crime.

To you, I was simply a part of your life, but to me, you were my entire life.

Thank you for letting me grow up with you.

Love always,

Your family dog

Cover Image Credit: Kaitlin Murray

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From One Nerd To Another

My contemplation of the complexities between different forms of art.

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Aside from reading Guy Harrison's guide to eliminating scientific ignorance called, "At Least Know This: Essential Science to Enhance Your Life" and, "The Breakthrough: Immunotherapy and the Race to Cure Cancer" by Charles Graeber, an informative and emotional historical account explaining the potential use of our own immune systems to cure cancer, I read articles and worked on my own writing in order to keep learning while enjoying my winter break back in December. I also took a trip to the Guggenheim Museum.


I wish I was artistic. Generally, I walk through museums in awe of what artists can do. The colors and dainty details simultaneously inspire me and remind me of what little talent I posses holding a paintbrush. Walking through the Guggenheim was no exception. Most of the pieces are done by Hilma af Klint, a 20th-century Swedish artist expressing her beliefs and curiosity about the universe through her abstract painting. I was mostly at the exhibit to appease my mom (a K - 8th-grade art teacher), but as we continued to look at each piece and read their descriptions, I slowly began to appreciate them and their underlying meanings.


I like writing that integrates symbols, double meanings, and metaphors into its message because I think that the best works of art are the ones that have to be sought after. If the writer simply tells you exactly what they were thinking and how their words should be interpreted, there's no room for imagination. An unpopular opinion in high school was that reading "The Scarlet Letter" by Nathaniel Hawthorne was fun. Well, I thought it was. At the beginning of the book, there's a scene where Hawthorne describes a wild rosebush that sits just outside of the community prison. As you read, you are free to decide whether it's an image of morality, the last taste of freedom and natural beauty for criminals walking toward their doom, or a symbol of the relationship between the Puritans with their prison-like expectations and Hester, the main character, who blossoms into herself throughout the novel. Whichever one you think it is doesn't matter, the point is that the rosebush can symbolize whatever you want it to. It's the same with paintings - they can be interpreted however you want them to be.


As we walked through the building, its spiral design leading us further and further upwards, we were able to catch glimpses of af Klint's life through the strokes of her brush. My favorite of her collections was one titled, "Evolution." As a science nerd myself, the idea that the story of our existence was being incorporated into art intrigued me. One piece represented the eras of geological time through her use of spirals and snails colored abstractly. She clued you into the story she was telling by using different colors and tones to represent different periods. It felt like reading "The Scarlet Letter" and my biology textbook at the same time. Maybe that sounds like the worst thing ever, but to me it was heaven. Art isn't just art and science isn't just science. Aspects of different studies coexist and join together to form something amazing that will speak to even the most untalented patron walking through the museum halls.

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