Knitting and doomscrolling are incompatible

I’ve talked on this blog before about mental health and knitting (for example here, here, here, here, and here). This week has acquainted me with yet another reason why knitting is good for me: knitting and doomscrolling are incompatible. Physically, you cannot engage your hands in creative pursuit while at the same time using them to endlessly scroll through frightening news. And mentally, you cannot engage in creative pursuit without allowing the mind a bit of respite.

This week, I am more thankful than I usually am (which is a lot), in the gift that knitting brings me. Have I stopped doomscrolling? I wish I could say yes. But I have moderated it, and that is good. To all of you who instead of endlessly refreshing the news and thinking negative thoughts, have instead landed on this page for a respite – for some fun, chatty words about knitting – I am happy to accommodate you. Let’s have a short chat about knitting and put everything else aside for a bit. Then we can face life with more fortitude and think about how we can impact and engage for good.

I have been super focused on my new project, which still remains a bit of a mystery: I will reveal all when it’s done. I gave a teasing photo of it in my last post, repeated here:

Every time I pick this project up, it makes me smile. I started it on the 12th of February and am whizzing through. I am knitting it with Ulysse, the sportweight yarn from Gilliat, which I think is likely to become my go-to sportweight wool. I love it, the colours are rich, it feels good on the hand, and it is comparatively inexpensive.

I have also done a bit of work on my Gresham Wrap since the last time I posted a photo. Here it is today:

This is going to be a very generously sized wrap which means I still have a lot of the cream middle section to knit. Unfortunately, this section is not as much fun as the coloured sections on the ends. But it is good TV knitting and moves along fast.

Emma has been stuck at home with Covid (boo hoo), and in between bouts of feeling really crappy, she has also been knitting. She sent me a photo of her project, which I will share with you below. Seeing my kids enjoying knitting and other creative pursuits makes me happy, too. (And look at how fantastically even her stitches are!)

I have also been engaged in planning new projects. Just yesterday, I discovered this yarn which I had purchased last year and forgotten about:

Now that I’ve found it again, the wildly beautiful blue is really speaking to me. It feels peaceful and calming, while at the same time it sparks. I am planning to knit Flores, a design by eri shimuzu:

© eri shimizu

To change the topic from knitting to books and illustration, the incomparable Shirley Hughes died this week. Given that she died at the age of 94, this is not a sad story (I promised you a respite from sad news), but instead had many of us remembering her work with incredible fondness. I think that her classic book Dogger is most often cited, but for me, I love the Alfie books and most especially, Alfie Gets in First. I read this so many times to the kids when they were little, and we spent many happy hours just looking at the lovely, detailed illustrations, so very full of life:

The toddler runs ahead of his mum in the first book in the Alfie series, Alfie Gets in First (1981)
Photograph: © Shirley Hughes/Penguin Books; from The Guardian March 3rd, 2022

You can see here a selection of photos from her books and life, published this week in the Guardian. These make me happy, too.

Take care, my friends, and be good to yourselves.

Just like every other day

Yesterday was April Fools Day.  I was heading into the city on the train.  As I was leaving the train station, I noticed a hand-written sign on a large white board.  It said:

Thought for the day:

Today is April Fools Day.

Don’t believe anything you hear.

Don’t trust anyone.

Just like every other day.

I did a double take, and stopped and stared at the sign while commuters streamed around me in annoyance.  This was obviously supposed to be funny; a little bit of humour to set you on your way.  I found this sign very depressing.  I left the train station feeling very down and sad about the state of the world.

I was in the city to conduct some interviews for an ongoing research project on stakeholder engagement in the mental health care sector.   My last interview of the day was with someone who had a very sad story to tell.  A sad and harrowing story.  One that didn’t end well.  Imagine, if you will, the kinds of sad and harrowing stories that could be told when discussing mental health.  Well, this was one of those stories.

The person who told me this story was elderly.  Life had dealt him a very bad hand.  He could have been profoundly pessimistic.  His story had ended tragically, but he believed in the power of change.   He believed in the power of people to make changes.  He believed in the power of people to be good.  He believed that he could make a difference.

I walked back to the train station late in the day and the sign was still up.  But in my head, I re-wrote that sign.  In my head, it said:

Thought for the day:

Someone today is making a positive difference in the world.

Just like every other day.