If moving to Maine has taught me anything, it’s this: friends are the family that you choose. As much as I miss my family (I’m lucky enough to see them every few months) the friends that I’ve made up in Maine have really become like a second family to me. This isn’t to say that making friends has been the easiest thing, something about trying to make friends as adults has this weird almost dating quality to it that making friends in college or high school didn’t really have.
Having a yarn stash is a funny thing. It’s this weird form of hoarding that I don’t realize is happening until I’m trying to consolidate the yarn in my life and find ball after ball of well-intentioned yarn that had a purpose at some point. Not to mention the gifted yarn that I’ve been given over the years somehow means I’ve got upwards of forty balls of yarn scattered throughout the apartment.
During the winter break of my freshman year in college I was (f)unemployed, which, to an eighteen year old who just had their first real taste of college classes, was a welcome change. I spent most of my days sitting around my parent’s house sleeping until noon and staying up until 4 am. I swore it was because for some weird reason I just couldn’t get to bed any earlier, but I swore it wasn’t because I was sleeping until noon every day or anything. Eventually the novelty of doing nothing wore off and I started trying to find something to keep myself occupied.
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