How Could I Not?

For most of my friends, they see cute patterns or cute things and their first thought is, "That's awesome!"  I have to say, I can totally see that side of it.  Their next comment is pretty practical, "But what would you ever do with that?"

They have a good point.  What would I ever do with half the pointless stuff I could make.  I see things that I fall in love with, and then I have no real reason to follow through with it.  I mean, who needs a little amigurimi Dalek from Dr. Who?  What about knit lingerie that I'll never likely use?  What use could I ever have for a hand-knit kudama anyway?

If only I could see it that way.  At least I don't jump into all the impractical things.  I try and focus on things that could potentially have a use, as much as they may not fit the kind of every-day-use I'd rather the things I make to have.  In truth, how many shawls can one person have?  Of course, the possibilities of socks, sweaters, and so on are endless.  For an always cold person like me, and my whole family for that matter, there are plenty of options for useful items.  However, some of the "practical" things I choose aren't every day wear.  I mean, I'm a bit old to be wearing the tam Mary wore in the newest movie production of "The Secret Garden", but I still made one and wore it daily.

That's when I found the one project I couldn't resist!  I almost wish I had.  That project had me knitting endless rounds of stockinette, and when the decreases were thrown in, there was only one every round.  I wanted to strangle someone!  It was totally endless!  I swear, I'll never make one again, not even if you paid me!  Well, maybe if you paid me...

I set my eyes on this project and I knew I had to knit one.  I was a hardcore fan of the series, so how could I not?  I had to do it.  I picked out the perfect shade of green yarn.  I found my needles.  I applied liberal amounts of patience for the boring task it would end up being.  I was convinced that the outcome would be worth it in the end.  Boy did I underestimate my tolerance for endless, mindless work!  I found myself looking at a pattern for my all-time favorite blond boy's hat, the one animated character I could totally go for...if I got into video game characters and all of that, Link, from Legend of Zelda.  There was a pattern for a hat, so I had to have it.

The pattern was simple enough.  I probably could have thrown it together all on my own.  I doubt I needed any help with that.  Slow decreases to the end would have been enough, and I'm sure I could have made that up as I went along.  There was just something that made me feel better about following a pattern.  I wouldn't be tempted to hack it short because I just got bored.  I had to finish it right.

I slogged through it, had it, and gave it away to my boyfriend, who adores it.  I suppose that's a good thing in the long run.  I didn't need another hat, much less one I doubt I would ever actually wear.  However, there's something about my claim to geekiness.  I wouldn't be able to call myself half as much the obsessive Zelda fan that I can now if I didn't do it.  Now I'm planning to make the triforce gauntlets and a matching scarf.  What can I say?  I'm an honest to goodness geek!