Wintertime makes me want to knit.  I've been addicted since my mother-in-law showed me how to knit about six years ago.  The click-click-click of the needles and the repetivite motion ease my nervous energy.  One of the first knitting projects I ever undertook was an afghan intended as a Christmas present, when my sister was pregnant with her second baby.  The afghan was celery green, super soft, and completely wonky!

I worked on that thing every free moment I had.  I'd just pick up the needles and start knitting.  Many times I'd fall asleep or get distracted in the middle of a row.  Had no idea what I was doing...no pattern...no instructions...no plan. 

Well I finished the afghan right before Christmas. I hadn't really paid much attention to how it was shaping up overall, until I cast off my last row. Geometry was never my strong suit, but I remember what a trapezoid looks like. My afghan was a trapezoid.

 I've gotten better at knitting since then.  But still, I can only knit squares or rectangles (i.e., dishcloths or scarves).  And I really only know how to do a basic knit stitch.  I've thought about expanding my knitting skills, but then I'd have to count and actually think while I'm knitting.  This sort of defeats the purpose of knitting for me.

Here are a couple scarves I finished up today. 

This matches a boiled wool hat I bought,

and are some of my favorite colors in the world: 

This one I started for my sister in January.

It just needed some finishing touches:

Due to my lack of fancy knitting ability,
I play up the embellishments:





So what ever happened to my trapezoid afghan?

At the last minute I gift-wrapped the afghan and put it under the tree at my sister's house.  My intention was to give them something to open, with the promise to make them a perfect rectangle in the near future.   Like, after I found a pattern to follow.

When my sister opened the present and unfurled the afghan, she cried.  She said this imperfect afghan meant more to her than a flawless one.  And they've actually used it!  A lot.  It has covered laps, feet, napping babies, and even served as the roof for a couch fort.  My sister and her family have since moved to a beautiful new house.

The celery green wonky afghan still hangs on their quilt rack.