It's October 1st, and there's finally a granny smith crispness about the air...even if that's only going to last for a couple of days. My frosted votive of Hot Cocoa and Cream is burning, and it's surprisingly delightful. It's preparing my senses for Holiday festivities and I'm so excited for Christmas! I'm watching a charming indie film called "Between Notes" starring my newest musical discovery (and crush, because who am I kidding), David Ramirez. All my life, I've never been able to write any worthwhile stories without music, and this man has whipped my writing lattice windows right open. There's a vulnerable honesty about him that encourages me to write my stories in the same raw manner.

My apartment is chilly, and I'm knitting a scarf.

The last few months have seen a knitting cacophony of massive Autumn shawls, and hats hats hats for my family. Every year since I started, I've knit my dad a hat, and I wanted to extend the cozy goodness to others around me. I wish I could knit a few a week to hand out to people. Well, if I had the courage to walk up to strangers with a hand knit hat in the chilly afternoon. But in the midst of all of these projects, I've been craving a simple scarf. The kind you learn when you pick up your first pair of knitting needles, Wool Ease Thick and Quick plush between your fingers. I think Autumn has this way about it that makes me want to go back to the basics. No bells and whistles. I think about all of the first scarves, or socks, or hats out there, all simplistic and stumbled through, but the love saturated there is priceless. Many of those objects still loved on after years and much weathering.

My scarf is knit with Petite Wool in a deep forest green. When I'm writing a story, I like to surround myself with as many significant details as I can, and Forest Green is a key character color. I'm knitting it in large blocks of garter and seed stitch for a little something 'pizzazzy'. I'm hoping to finish it by December, but I think I'm purposely taking a long time on it. This scarf feels like a handwritten diary scribbled over time, each loop and stitch reading like a 'Who-What-Where-When' of my life. Something to look back on and remember. I'm thinking I'll store it with with a sachet of something pretty. Maybe Hot Cocoa and Cream or Marshmallow Fireside because who doesn't want to wrap something around them that smells like Christmas?

The Holiday knitting frenzy approaches, but I hope that in the midst of all of your projects, you knit at least one thing for yourself and someone else that you don't have to think too much about, because you're too busy thinking of how wonderful it feels to be hugged.