I find knitting to be such a parable for life. I know it is goofy, but that is how it seems to me. 

Over the last few days, I have had more failures than successes with my knitting. There was the start and stop of the Upside Down Coat. And, there was the failed lace project.  Those hurt, but not as much as the failed fourth Gelato Purse. That failure hurt because I had done three purses successfully without even so much as a narry of a complaint, and a bit of the joy I felt from my sense of knitted accomplishment was trampled when I made that mistake and rendered the fourth purse unviable. 

I was not deterred, though. Just as I teach my children not to beat themselves up over their well-intentioned mistakes, I know that I should be similarly gracious to myself when I make one. But, it's hard. I find it difficult not to immediately embark on a tirade of self loathing, but this time - I swear - I really tried. I tried to just not feel bad about it and do the bag over.

Then. I made the same mistake again. Like an idiot. And, now four purses have turned into six, with two silly, stupid, and completely lazy noted failures.

It made for a crabby girl. Very crabby. But, I am nothing if not pig-headed, stubborn as a mule,  perseverant, and so, undaunted, I embarked on Knitting Red with Margarets lovely yarn and Leigh Radford's lovely pattern. Unfortunately, although both are beautiful in their own right, each was ill suited for the other. And, after 6 inches of tubularosity, amidst a demonstration of shadow knitting at Knitting Guild last night, I decided that my first Knitting Red project had to be dumped. Waaah. It made me feel bad.

And I came home from the Knitting Guild to a marriage that so often feels as doomed as my knitting. We try and ignore our problems, and we honestly try not to aggravate them, but like the dogged terror of my knitting hangups, the problems remain. And, on any given small number of days, those problems perk up en masse and then tumble down like relentless dominoes, one after the other, after the other. And the hope and the prayer of unity seems about as unlikely and far away as gossamer or even fair isle. And it is very hard. Very hard not to feel like a failure.

I don't know how my Brownie copes, but I have resolved to do the only thing I know to do. My commitment to my marriage, and knitting, is steadfast. 

It helps to take your eyes off yourself, so I shadow knitted this little washcloth, for my friend Barbie, successful in her own fight and right.

And, we go on.