I love my little knitting corner. I keep a comfy club chair in the bay window in our living room. I have my grandmother’s sewing basket on my right to store stitch markers, circular needles, and project bags. My basket of yarn sits on the floor just next to me. It’s pretty small, and that’s designed to keep me reigned in. When I can’t fit any more yarn in the basket, it means there is an official ban on yarn purchases until the thing is depleted. It is currently overflowing.
To my left is this little table. I store some of my prettiest books here. I have my father’s copy of Frankenstein, The Red Badge of Courage, and Brownings Collected Poems here. I tossed in my recent purchase of To Kill a Mockingbird, which I can’t wait to read with Grace girl some day, and Breakfast at Tiffany’s. I also keep my needles here, tossed in an old milk jar from a local creamery.
I love this eccentric corner of my house. It feels like me – a hodgepodge of things I love. As Hubs-to-Be and I begin to think about how we are going to merge our households together, I’m already plotting where the new knitting corner will be.