TLDR; THE WORLD WILL LOVE YOU REGARDLESS

it snowed on Sunday. they’d been predicting it all week; the phrase, ‘potential disruption due to snow & ice,’ greeting me each time i checked the weather app. but with only a 10% chance, i doubted whether i would see it happen (i desperately wanted to). it’d probably only stick further from the beach.

i learned to knit on Sunday. went out to the shops and bought my supplies: bamboo needles & a skein of marled cream yarn. i stopped on my way back to get a coffee in a little shop with fogged-up windows. i watched the hazy figures pass on their way to here & there and listened to the music as i sipped. i think the barista made the best mocha i’ve ever had in my life.

it snowed on Sunday. i saw the flurries start on my way home. the drifts started so suddenly - within minutes the whole street was dusted in white and heading steadily to being coated. i watched it all from the top deck of the bus and couldn’t stop myself from smiling like a child, so wide my cheeks hurt. i caught snowflakes in my hair on the walk back from my stop.

i learned to knit on Sunday. i sat down with my spoils in the living room - new needles, bag of yarn, herbal tea, fluffy blanket. queued up a tutorial for a cable-knit scarf, picked up my needles and promptly realized my mistake. i’d gotten them in the wrong size and - crucially - i don’t know how to knit.

it snowed on Sunday and i perched on the back of the couch to watch from the kitchen windows, bundled babushka-style in my blanket. the woman in the knitting tutorial kept talking in the background. i ate pasta for lunch and watched cars leave patterned lines across the road, people leave layered footprints on the pavement.

i learned to knit on Sunday and a year ago i would’ve given up. but there’s something beautiful about being a beginner i now notice: the only way from here is up. so i tried to learn a long-tail cast on and did it wrong the first time. i only noticed after stumbling through three rows. once i’d gotten it, i tried knit stitches again and made them so tight i could hardly get them off the needles.

it snowed on Sunday. i took photos of the flurries as they kicked up against the pink-streaked sky and sent them to my mom. i sent my little brother a voice-note singing ‘happy birthday’ and got to wish him love from snowy Aberdeen. i am so glad i get to share my joy. i put on some jazz, undid my misshapen knitting and started again.

i learned to knit on Sunday and quickly noticed that purling is much easier than knitting; i purled in a trance for nearly an hour before i tried knitting again. i only figured out how tension works after knitting five rows with stitches too tight in some spots and too loose in others. there’s a certain way to hold the working yarn, a crook to the index finger that seems like it’ll get stuck that way forever.

it snowed as i learned to knit on Sunday. at nine p.m. i set down my trial run to stretch my hands and check on the winter wonderland outside. i slid the stitches off the newly scratched needle and unraveled my work. i’ll try again on Monday.

‘try again. fail again. fail better.’ the world will not love you any less for it.


e.m., 22, the frozen north ✯

“a STEM girly trying to reconnect with her literary roots. usually found drinking a warm beverage and marveling at the world.”

Previous
Previous

MARIA LOVES IN EMBROIDERY

Next
Next

JOURNAL ENTRIES OF AN AROMANTIC