Knitting Secret Reveal Eve

Since I learned to knit a little more than two months ago, I've gone from being very self-conscious about enjoying a hobby commonly associated with old women to feeling comfortable about being a knitter. True, I still feel a little like an interloper when I go into a crafts or yarn store, and I haven't shared my secret with very many people. What's important is that I've found something that means a lot to me regardless of what others might think and that I'm not as concerned with the reactions of these hypothetical disapprovers.

Of course, Christmas day brings the big reveal, so if there's a particularly negative family reaction, who's to say that my confidence won't be diminished? I don't anticipate any major incidents, and it's not like my younger brothers don't already give me crap for all sorts of things, such as my work or weight (although with what I've lost this year, they can't really say anything).

I'm relieved Christmas is almost here because then I can knit to my heart's content. Last night I couldn't find anywhere to knit in secrecy, but today I was able to get a little bit in while my brothers were deep frying a turkey outside. It's a shame I couldn't knit in the open today because Sundays have usually been good for lots of knitting.

I haven't quite attained the peace the holiday is supposed to bring, but I don't feel as stressed as I've been in recent weeks. It's all about taking baby steps, like Bill Murray's character was instructed in What About Bob?

Since my mom is a pastor, there is no skipping out on church when visiting my parents. I usually go once a week where I live, but needless to say, there's not really a choice in the matter when staying at mom and dad's. With Christmas Eve falling on a Sunday, it meant double the churchgoing. I don't necessarily mind, although I can have some difficulty watching my mother preach. (It's worse if she draws upon something from my childhood to illustrate a point.) After Christmas she and my dad are moving near South Bend, Indiana for her new job, so today was her last Sunday preaching to her congregation of six years.

My slowly replenishing patience got a good test as the morning service was, shall we say, slower and slightly longer than what I'm accustomed to. It probably doesn't look good when one of the pastor's adult children is checking his watch and getting fidgety, but all I can say is that I tried. Now I know where my longwindedness comes from, though.

Fortunately the Christmas Eve service was moved up to 7:00 p.m. rather than the usual 10:00 or 11:00. I can appreciate the idea of having the late service, but I'm not crazy about it in practice. Be careful what you wish for because the earlier time clashed with the end of the Bengals game. I fixed my parents' VCR connection the night before, so I was able to record the game and watch the aggravating conclusion afterwards. I got very antsy during this service, not because I wanted to see the end of the game--I expected the worst and got it--but because my perpetual motion December has conditioned me to get anxious if I'm not on the move.

Getting wound up on Christmas Eve is a natural state; however, in this case it's because of what I'm waiting to give, not what I'm waiting to get. (I failed miserably at suggesting anything that I might want, so I was e-mailed a gift card earlier this week. Kind of takes the bloom off the rose.)

Actually, you already know what I want to get. I want the shocked delight of my family members when they see what I've made, and of course I want to be able to knit. If I get nothing else, Christmas will be a huge success.

Merry Christmas to you and yours.

Next...the big reveal.