When the fog rolls in, that shadow in the mist is me, knitting on the brink.
No, seriously. It is.
I live in the City in Northern California. I began to knit about two years ago, and to knit obsessively perhaps one year ago. I produce Hats with increasing frequency. Four people live at my house. All of us are hairy with enormous heads. The small people are sassy and beautiful. The older ones are sarcastic and weary. We eat too much bread and look down on Famous Bowls.
I also crochet. Sometimes I am a graduate student in Anthropology. Sometimes I am completing a novel. Sometimes I am an excellent cook. Sometimes my cooking seems like a good idea in theory but is terrible in execution. Sometimes my knitting is that way also.
Soon I will be Thirty Thirty-One. Very soon. Perhaps too soon.