My Own Little Chair

I have a confession to make.  As much as I believe in thwarting the stereotypes of traditional knitters by knitting the cutest and most wearable, sometimes fashion forward items I possibly can, as much as I rage when someone says knitters are boring, don't have enough to do, or can't possibly have a feminist bone in their body because knitting is so traditionally feminine, in my heart of hearts I am that stereotype.  My dream is to be a little old lady, sitting in my rocker with my cup of coffee (still not decaf, I'm not that crazy), with a beautiful blanket spilling off of my needles.  In my head there might even be a cat curled up at my feet.  And of course my hair has gone blue.  I know!  How specifically lame can I get.  But it's such a beautiful vision in my mind that I may or may not have started on it early.

There's no blanket on my needles and we don't have a cat.  My hair is still purple, though at one time it was blue and I kind of pulled it off.  But I do have my rocking chair sitting in the corner where I can have a cup of coffee and knit my heart out.  One of the things we were so excited about when we moved was how much more space we have -- over 200 more square feet!  I know we don't *need* much space and in many parts of the world and the United States people make do with much smaller living quarters, but the opportunity came along and we just could not resist.  Our old apartment had something along every wall and we did not have space for a lot of seating, so one of the things we wanted in the new apartment was additional seating.  This wicker rocker has been sitting in my parents garage for quite some time.  It came from my grandparent's house and they just really did not have the space for it.  So when my mom called to ask if we wanted it I did not even stop to ask Chris, I just said yes.

I'm planning to recover the cushions, and I still need to find a standing lamp that I like at the thrift store, but my little corner is finally becoming a reality.  I have one of my bookcases next to it, so a good book is always within easy reach, and once we find a better place for the tv antenna I will have a little table on which I can put a basket for a knitting project or two.  I find myself humming "In My Own Little Corner" whenever I look at it.  Maybe I'll find my copy of the record and get it framed to hang next to it.  Then the madness will truly be complete.