Sit & Write #326
A real nail-biter.
Greetings, friends!
We missed you at last week’s Daycation. I spent most of the day working on this article for my neighborhood farmer’s market newsletter:
I’m a nail-biter. This is, perhaps, not the most appetizing way to begin a newsletter about locally made goods and fresh produce, but it’s the truth. I’ve gotten better over the years, re-channeling this anxious habit into chronic nail filing and various other, less damaging neuroses. Still, as soon as life gets extra stressful, I slip back into old patterns. Even watching TV doesn’t distract me enough to fully relax. It does, however, distract me just enough to lose all self-discipline.
Back in December, I had a revelation: it was impossible to bite my nails while my hands were occupied. Thus began a mission to find the exact right type of busy work. Folding laundry was too dull, and most arts & crafts require consistent visual attention. Then I remembered an old childhood hobby: crochet. My mom had taught my sister and I to make baby hats, and the three of us churned out dozens to donate to a local hospital. Once I’d memorized the rhythm, I barely had to look at what I was doing. Picking it back up 25 years later would be like riding a bike, I figured. I even had an old hook laying around. The one thing I didn’t have was yarn.
Another confession: I have a long track record of investing in, and then promptly abandoning, new hobbies. See also: my needle-felting era, my film camera collection, and those boxes of vintage clothing for “resale.” I swear, I’m coming back for all of it… eventually. I had to get real with myself: if I spent so much as a dollar on yarn, it too would join the shameful graveyard of costly neglected pastimes in my cluttered office.
And so, on January 1st, I took to the only place where I knew I’d find people sympathetic to my plight: the Buy Nothing Lansdowne Facebook group. Sure enough, BNL delivered. A neighbor invited me over to raid her yarn stash that weekend. Two days later, I stopped by her home while running errands with friends, telling them to wait in the car while I quickly retrieved the goods. As a long-time BNL member, I should have known better. Twenty minutes later, I emerged with multiple bags full of secondhand yarn in an array of pinks, reds, oranges, blues, and greens, as well as a photocopied tutorial from a fiber arts book and a single granny square for inspiration, just in case I wanted to try making one of my own. My mercifully patient friends marveled at the trove. “That’s Lansdowne for you,” I shrugged.
It took a while to get back into the flow of things, but soon enough I was cranking out an excessively long scarf for my mother’s birthday, its dimensions only slightly wobbly as I relearned how to make each row the same width. I tackled some new stitches, thanks to my neighbor’s guide, and successfully made a tiny, 3D whale, replete with a plume of white yarn spouting from its blowhole. Adding a third dimension to crochet opens up a staggering array of possibilities. I even started making a plush mascot based on my job’s logo, a cuddly little staircase with arms and legs. At least, that’s the vision — it’s currently sitting half finished on my desk. It’s actually been a month since I touched it, landing it on my crafting cavern’s endangered species list. I’ll return to it soon, I swear.
Most good things start small. A single stitch in a long scarf, the first steps of a marathon, or even a seasonal farmers market. Last weekend’s market was, admittedly, a little smaller than usual, as it’s our first year starting in early May. Our winter vendors have transitioned to their summer markets, and some of our regular summer vendors weren’t quite ready yet. We’ll iron things out next year, but hey, you gotta start somewhere.
Saturday’s market featured Sara Elb, a crochet artist, and a yarn bombing activity, which entailed wrapping a street pole in colorful, handmade granny squares. We also enjoyed music by Amalia Kirnos, a local middle scholar who plays with Delco School of Rock and is undoubtedly at the beginning of a long, rewarding creative journey.
Spring is the perfect time to begin a new hobby, rock out in public, and beautify the neighborhood. Speaking of which, it’s time to split up those overgrown hostas! Next weekend’s market will feature a Garden Plant Swap, and you’re invited to bring spare outdoor plants to share with the community. There will also be a native plant scavenger hunt, which sounds like a great, low-risk hobby for people prone to overbuying craft supplies and then giving up. Hypothetically speaking, of course.
Zine launch
In other news, this Friday, 5/15, is The Philly Fictionists zine launch. Join us at Giovannis’ Room from 6:00-7:30pm to hear several contributors, including myself, read excerpts from the zine and talk about the experience of being a trans fiction writer in Philly. I’d love to see you there!
Attendees will get a free print copy of the zine (while supplies last), but I’ll also share a digital version here next week.
SIT & WRITE
I made a small tweak to our usual signup process. You can now register for Saturday’s call in advance, and the link will be emailed to you. This should also make it easier to add our meetings to your calendar, directly from your inbox.
If you’re new, you can ignore the above, but be sure to read this FAQ before joining us.
WHAT: Sit & Write #326
WHEN: Saturday, 5/16, 11:00am-2:00pm ET
WHERE: Zoooooom
REGISTRATION: https://us06web.zoom.us/meeting/register/T1yROs9kQTySby_qgLriuw
Alright friends, that’s all for today.
Warmly,
Julian Shendelman
Collective Lit
collectivelitgroup@gmail.com