Now I know why I dreamed I gave birth to twins last night.
I had been thinking about how, sometimes at knit nights or quilting classes, or really, any social situation, I sometimes feel at a loss because I can't join in when people start talking about their kids and their grandkids.
I don't have kids, I have novels I wrote. Oh, and that as-yet-unproduced screenplay I carry around in the trunk of my car as ballast in case it rains in Southern California and the oily roads get slick.
And I don't have grandkids, I have... well, I went out and got this on Thursday, and I have been thinking of it as my brand new baby:
Which is what got me thinking about kids in the first place.
It's a Janome Jem Gold sewing machine, small and lightweight for carting to quilting classes. I traded in my other machine, the one I bought to find out if I even wanted to sew, and got the Jem instead.
If not a grandbaby.
I just got it out of the box this morning.
I was busy for a couple of days making sure I knew how to thread the Jem, and change all the feet and lower the feed dogs and so on, because I have a machine quilting class coming up next weekend, and I need to know how to use it. Turns out, it's very easy. Yay!
The big kid will stay home, currently on my desk, as I have nowhere else to put it. Yet.
Soon I will be able to quilt like a maniac. As if I haven't been already.
Anyway, getting the "twins"--obviously fraternal and not identical--made me think about how I always meant to have actual children. A husband, too. Things just didn't work out that way.
There are times I feel sad about it, especially when everyone around me is bonding over talking about their families. But when I hear other women share about how hard it is to find time to knit because their young children or grandchildren won't leave them alone for five minutes, or how they have to sneak yarn into the house so their husbands won't see it, I feel pretty lucky.
I can knit whenever and wherever I want, I can pile yarn up to the ceiling, and leave projects in varying stages of completion all over the living room, turn my dining room table into a blocking table, my desk into a fabric cutting station, and if I want to buy a new sewing machine, I don't need permission from anyone but myself.
Getting permission from myself is a whole other challenge, mind you, but clearly, I have triumphed!
Now I need another work table and some shelving.
I am strongly considering getting rid of the couch.