It's a mystery. In a good way.

During the great spare room cleanup on the weekend I unearthed a tub of yarn that my Mom gave me a few years ago - leftovers from past knitting projects that she didn't want to store any longer. Among the delicious selection of yarns were a whole bunch of half finished balls of mystery yarn. Labels long gone. Brands unknown. Fibre content a complete mystery.

Which, of course, makes them all the more perfect for my daily squares. Because it doesn't matter at all what yarn I use as long as I like it. And today, when I reached for a small, cozy looking bit of gray yarn, it felt perfect indeed.

Knowing that my Mom used that same gray ball for something she knit once upon a time - and that the last few yards went into today's lacy square - makes me feel that kind of stupid happy that you figure most people won't understand. Because you can't explain it, even to yourself.

Happy, happy, happy gray square.

January 26, 2009



Can you see me? I'm smiling.