After Dad died, I knitted a blanket, after only knitting scarves. I figured a blanket (really a throw or blanket rug) was just like a giant scarf, right? Wider, and longer. I tackled a basketweave pattern, fucked it a few times, and it still keeps me warm on the couch in winter two years later.

This time it wasn't - isn't - a grief blanket, but a happiness blanket. The yellow's a vibe, right? And the chevron pattern is far more intuitive than the basketweave, or maybe I've just got the hang of it. I'm happy to say I fucked it less, though thankfully the errors get lost in the larger field.

It's taking me far too long, though. I very rarely feel like knitting, so tend to do a few rows in the car (not whilst driving - whilst a passenger, though I'd be up for the challenge) on the way to work or in the staffroom before the day starts. Since I'm only working a day or two a week, this blanket is very, very slow going.

I've also established I'm really not a knitter.

The amount of conversations I've had with established, obsessive knitters about the craft is insane. I tend to drift off when they say 'oh it's easy, you just [INSERT STITCH PATTERN HERE]', totally oblivious to the fact that when you know how to do something, of course it's fucking easy. I can't very well stop them and saying they are speaking a foreign language. They won't listen anyway - the conversation just repeats: 'oh, but all you need to do is [....]'

Whilst I love watching beautiful colourwork socks (would someone PLEASE knit me some socks with mushrooms?) or chaos knitting (rolling a dice to choose a pattern and colour for the next part of your jumper) on Instagram, I just can't be bothered myself.

I think I'm the kind of person who like to learn something then moves on to something else, probably just when it gets hard.

I also don't see the value in knitting a cardigan, for example, which would take me months and cost a fortune in wool, when I can find a cardigan at the charity shop for a fiver and be done with it. Maybe if I had a body that could look good in a sack, sure. But there's no guarantee that what I what knit would work on me, even if I had delusions about my own appearance.

And every time I've started something cool, I've tied myself in knots, got frustrated, and given up. Fuck me - my brain just ain't braining that way.

I like my practical, usable blanket.

But I think it's time to do those mosaic pavers in the garden...