Nice to meet you and thoughts on perfection

Rub a dub dub, Three men in a tub, And who do you think they be? The butcher, the baker, The candlestick maker. Turn them out, knaves all three

Who am I?

• I’d like to tell you I’m a writer. But writers make time to write.

• I’d like to tell you I’m a photographer. But photographers know what they are doing behind the lens.

• I’d like to tell you I’m a crafter. But crafters are, well, crafty.

• I’d like to tell you I’m a sewer. But sewers have fancy machines.

• I’d like to tell you I’m a housewife. But housewives don’t have jobs.

• I’d like to tell you I’m a career woman. But career women don’t scrub their own toilets.

• I’d like to tell you I’m a knitter. But knitters don’t leave holes.

• I’d like to tell you I’m a doting mother. But doting mothers are never exhausted.

• I’d like to tell you I’m a baker. But bakers measure everything precisely.

• I’d like to tell you I’m a cook. But cooks are good at following recipes.

• I’d like to tell you I’m a veterinarian. But veterinarians don’t question their abilities.

• I’d like to tell you I’m a farmer. But farmers own more than four chickens.

• I’d like to tell you I’m a wife. But wives always make time for their husbands.

• I’d like to tell you I’m a voracious reader. But voracious readers read every night.

• I’d like to tell you I’m an athlete. But athletes aren’t out-of-shape.

• I'd like to tell you I'm a piper. But pipers own a set of bagpipes.
  

There is only one thing that I can tell you and that is I am me. Nice to meet you.

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On Perfection

After eight months I finished knitting my Moderne Baby Blanket. This blanket, originally, was for a baby. But that birth has come and gone.

In the beginning the blanket went with me everywhere I went, snuggled in my carryall bag. I knit at the pool, during slow periods at work, at the allergist, etc.

Also in that carryall bag? An ink pen. Specifically a leaking blue ink pen. And the ink managed to touch only the lightest colored yarn on the blanket - the apple green. Yes. It stained. Permanently.

Due to it’s imperfections the blanket lost it’s gifting status and became mine. And it was subsequently shoved into the closet to be completed at a later date. Because, as you well know, knitting for others takes precedence over knitting for oneself.

Well this week I finally pulled the thing out and completed it. Besides the stain it contains many other imperfections. The border was inadvertently knit in two similar but different yarns. The colors don’t knit together perfectly. It has other hiccups here and there.

And yet. This imperfect blanket is perfect for keeping my lap warm on chilly nights. Just as my messy house is a perfect shield against the rain and wind. Smooshed cupcakes still taste delectable and my scuffed shoes still protect my feet.

The revelation? Well it's not really a revelation. It's something you and I have known all along. Perfection doesn’t exist. Never has and never will. We need to let go. To embrace our stains. We are all perfectly imperfect.

And so it seems I am the butcher, the baker and the candlestick maker. Who knew?