I have this really horrible habit of talking myself out of doing nice things.
Like, I'll think, "Ohh, my sweet yoga teacher is expecting! I should knit her something for the baby."
And five minutes later, "But maybe that would be weird? I don't really know her that well."
And five minutes after that, "I mean, I'm not even sure she knows my whole name. Come to think of it, what's her last name?"
And so on, until I've squelched my good initial impulse to dust.
Why do we do that? In this world where so many truly awful and terrible things are happening every second, why do we let perceived social awkwardness stop us from putting some happy juju out into the universe when we get the urge?
Because, really, even if it was a complete stranger who walked up and handed me a hand-knitted sweater for my child, it wouldn't be that weird. In fact, I'd probably give them a big thank you and then blog about my amazing luck.
So, this time, instead of talking myself out my happy plan, I started knitting. I ignored the small, stingy voices in my head and I made that baby a sweater, goshdarnit.
[Pattern is the garter yoke baby cardi with an added crochet border, and yarn is the wonderful, washable Malabrigo Rios.]