patience and trust

I taught my husband to knit last night. He hadn't slept more than 2 hours the night before because of stress and wanted a way to chill out. I don't think knitting did it but it was the only thing I could think of since he couldn't go out and jog.

Teaching him to knit seemed so symbolic. For one, I had to be incredibly patient (which I wasn't) and let him do it (instead of grabbing the needles, which I tried to do). And he had to trust me that it would work out even when it looked like a tangled mess as he slid each stitch on the needle. "I don't think I'm doing it right," he said. But eventually, after a few rows, the pattern was clear and he had knitted a tiny patch of thick purple yarn, which he promptly tore out as soon as he completed it and started it again.

(He didn't sleep last night either. I am happy to say that after watching the movie Office Space tonight, he fell fast asleep! Whew!!)

this is a scarf I started the other day
and I ended up tearing the purple off after I knitted it
because it was too thick.
Jevon used that same yarn to knit with last night.