It has been a busy week at McIntosh. You have been buying sock wool with considerable enthusiasm, and I have been dispatching your orders with the sort of excitement normally reserved for someone announcing that dinner is ready.
Although this week, dinner has mostly been mashed potatoes and gravy.
I have had an upper right molar removed. A little less tooth, a little more perspective, and absolutely no ambition to eat anything crunchy.
Needles Are Fine Until the Dentist Has Them
For someone who spends so much of his life with needles in his hands, I am remarkably unimpressed when somebody approaches me with one.
Apparently, “but I sell wool” does not count as a medical exemption.
So this week, I put on my big boy pants and went to the dentist, accompanied by the wonderful Dr. Thomas as my emotional support character. My mouth was frozen, the molar was removed, and I emerged feeling rather tender and very pleased it was over.
It was not nice, but thankfully it was not too painful. Paracetamol helped, and I feel much better now that it is done.
My menu remains soft. My personality, unfortunately for Dr. Thomas, remains undiminished.
Knittitation: A Breath, a Feeling, a Stitch
Between the dentistry, things around the house and the stitches on my needles, I have been thinking about how we look after ourselves.
I call my mindful knitting practice knittitation.
A stitch becomes a breath. The next holds a feeling. Another gives me a moment to notice an emotion I might otherwise hurry past.
When I pay attention to my knitting, I notice where the fabric needs care: a loose stitch, a snag, something that needs gently putting right. It reminds me to offer that same attention to myself.
Our thoughts and feelings deserve care, too. Sometimes we need to pause. Sometimes we need help. Sometimes we need to stop pretending we are absolutely fine and admit that we are having a difficult day.
Knitting will not solve the world’s problems. In my experience, though, it can give us a little space to meet what is happening, one stitch at a time.
There is something comforting about having the next small thing to do sitting right there on your knitting needle.
A Customer Story That Stopped Me in My Tracks
After last week’s email, so many of you wrote to tell me how knitting and crochet have helped you. Thank you for trusting me with those stories.
One customer’s message stopped me in my tracks.
She told me about growing up in Ukraine and taking up crochet when the war began. It gave her something to focus on and helped take her mind off what was happening around her.
She also explained that crochet required neither electricity nor running water, which proved useful during power cuts.
I sat with that thought for a while.
A hook. Some yarn. Something she could still do when so much around her was beyond her control.
I read her email to Dr. Thomas, and we talked about the magnitude of what she had described.
I grew up in Northern Ireland during the Troubles in the 1980s. Dr. Thomas grew up in West Germany during the Cold War. Those experiences gave us our own memories of uncertainty, while her story reminded us how much there is beyond our own understanding.
It also reminded me how much a simple stitch can mean.
Gratitude, Depression and Finding Hope Again
Every night, I say my thank-yous for McIntosh.
For your orders. Your messages. Your stories. For being able to do work I care about, and for the people who make it possible.
Practising gratitude helps me notice what is good in my life. It gives me a sense of connection, achievement and hope.
I remember being very ill with depression and telling Dr. Thomas that I did not know what to do. Even if I had known, I did not have the energy to do it.
I had lost hope that the energy would ever return.
That is a difficult place to be, and I remember it clearly.
Today, here I am: full of energy, cheeky as ever, packing your orders and smiling whenever the online till goes “ka-ching” on my iPhone.
Each order is someone choosing wool, planning a project, perhaps making a gift or finding a little time for themselves. Being part of that means a great deal to me.
Knitting has been part of my own story, and your messages remind me that it has a place in many of yours, too.
Socktober at McIntosh
Meanwhile, Socktober continues, and the sock wool is flying off the shelves.
Figuratively speaking. Airborne yarn would make dispatch considerably more complicated.
Your enthusiasm has encouraged me to add two more sock wools: Candy-Coloured Wool and LANGYARNS Super Socks Tweed 4-ply, which is coming this week.
There is something rather lovely about knitting socks. A little colour, a little concentration, and eventually something warm for your feet.
Possibly also a second sock. We live in hope.
Sunshine and the Spring/Summer Collection
Alongside your orders, I am knitting next year’s spring/summer collection.
In the first week of November, Dr. Thomas and I are heading to Gran Canaria for a few days, as we do each year. A little sunshine before winter, and a breather before the busy season at the hospital for him.
There will be some lounging by the pool. There will also be knitting and photography, because I want to show you the spring/summer collection in sunshine when it launches in January.
Trying to capture the joy of summer yarns in dreary British winter weather requires quite a lot of imagination and occasionally a very determined lamp.
I am grateful we can go. Time together, some warmth, and the chance to photograph what I have been making: plenty to look forward to.
The Knitter Knitalong Kits Are Back
For those waiting for a kit for The Knitter knitalong, more stock has arrived at McIntosh. Plenty of you have already joined in, and it is lovely to see the enthusiasm.
There is also a very good offer to subscribe to The Knitter through McIntosh. You can find the kit and subscription details in the shop.
As we head into another week, I will be carrying your stories with me, knitting the next stitches and continuing my temporary commitment to mashed potatoes.
Thank you for being part of McIntosh.
Look after yourselves, and may your week contain a little wool, a little laughter and something to feel grateful for.
James
