In my hands, around my neck, over my arms: wool. It consumes my crafting moments, it fills my head by burrowing into the part of the ‘Mama brain’ core to urge me to plan more knits, more woollens, more warmth.
When I sleep I dream in yarn weight and wake to thoughts of new projects.
And this year I must. learn. to. spin.
I do declare it’s open season on knitting.
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