Ok, to get it out of the way-curse is a strong word but ‘the weirdly coincidental lining up of random homesteading clothing brands’ doesn’t have the same rhythm to it as curse.
Mid has been wearing the same lined flannel jacket for so long that neither of us remember where I bought it. I’m even honestly just running off the assumption that I’m even the one that bought it, it’s entirely possible that’s not even true. He tore it at the rail yard earlier this week and I said well, it certainly lived a long and happy life if right now I can’t tell you who paid for it, where it came from, or when it showed up.
We can get you another coat.
He really had issues with this. He felt…something like guilt, like he was taking food from my mouth or some such. The man is a trucker working out of a rail yard. He needs a coat. He’s not asking for a new full wardrobe of elder goth wear for when the bars open again.
Then he asked me for something that DID surprise me-he wanted to go down to Cabela’s to buy said coat.
Ok I said. We can do that. I like the candy selection, there’s bear related household goods (there’s a whole weird, weird story about me and bears that I haven’t talked about yet, ironically that also relates to boots), and Cabela’s/Tractor Supply/Bass Pro/homesteading and hunting stores are the only place left I can easily find jeans off the rack that fit me and actually last longer than three months.
Have I mentioned that I’m deep into glamsteading*? I’m wandering around this store in faux suede and faux fur and heavy makeup getting all sorts of looks, happily buying my jeans and orange flannel and Black Rifle coffee not really paying attention to the -brands- he’s picking up.
Then he says it…’I really like this Red Head stuff’.
Yes. My husband filled our cart with the brand I pulled out of the air for yesterday’s post. But yes, we did well with both price and quality and I very slightly fear we will become Cabela’s people because he just realized he likes their clothes and they’re actually cheaper than Target at this point.
*Glamsteading = homesteading without compromising on aesthetics and beauty rituals. It’s a word that comes from Instagram or TikTok or some such and is basically a push back against the idea that you can’t have a beauty routine and ‘be a good homesteader’.
That photo isn’t a sweater but right now I can’t actually find a photo of said sweaters.
I went a five to six month period where I just couldn’t knit. It wasn’t even just that it was canning season or that I lost access to the central air conditioning I’ve gotten used to working in a building (I am almost completely work from home at this point). I just…couldn’t. The concept of a complete mental and physical block comes to mind.
We actually have had more than a few sessions about this in therapy and while I was slowly able to start knitting again I am so far behind on commissions it’s almost comical and it is actually sad, it was still an almost painful process. Who lays awake at night feeling guilty about mittens? Me. I do. I’m that person.
Then I woke up one day and wanted to knit a sweater. Specifically I wanted to knit what’s called a yarn bra-a sweater that’s very tight, very cropped. It’s actually sort of tongue in cheek Fat Squirrel’s fault- I’m toing into perimenopause and she suggests high negative ease, cropped short sleeve or sleeveless sweaters on fat bodies dealing with hot flashes. Nothing says you have to wear them alone, they can go over garments, but when you can’t control your body temperature you don’t want a heavy sweater to your knees and to your wrists.
So I knit the damn sweater. And then I cast on another sweater. And then another sweater. Then I ordered more yarn. Then we went to Michaels. I dug out some handspun that’s been sitting around like a fluffy table ornament.
I finally asked my therapist about this-why am I suddenly knitting sweaters when I couldn’t knit a sweater for a decade? Why am I finally knitting commissions when I couldn’t knit them without knitting sweaters? Why am I knitting yarn bras, the style of sweaters I knit for myself when I was 20 and a lot more…body confident…than I am now?
She said the act of knitting a sweater is an act of dedication to self. It’s such a time and material requirement that even at my speed and even with the smallness of the garments that I’m making it’s still telling yourself you’re worth the investment to your self. You have to be willing to say you’re worth it to yourself to do it.
You have to be able to tell yourself you’re worth it.
And it is actually helping me finish commissions. Still much too slowly. Still painfully slowly. But it’s not taking me five months to finish a pair of mittens anymore.