The warp and weft of our lives

My tangle of yarns has been living in bags and boxes in france for the last 8 years, a riotous rummage of mixed colours, weights and textures. The project on the needles - both a cause and a consequence of my magpie tendencies - was a "something" based on the carpet pattern by Kaffe Fasset in his 1985 explosion onto the design scene Glorious Knitting.

The mid 80's. I think I was knitting a lot of traditional fairisle /intarsia at that time ... But life was too short and too busy in 1985 with 2 very young children and a thesis to finish writing up to seriously think that I would ever complete the 'Crosspatch' sleeveless pullover in 4 ply Shetland wool. I did about 6 inches ... And then it languished in the bottom of a drawer, as a testament to misplaced enthusiasm untempered by practicality.

I think it was finally culled and sent to recycling sometime around one of my moves.

The fact that it was being knitted for my husband - who at the time of the moving cull had become my ex-husband -probably hastened it on its way.

I don't remember my intentions for this 'something'. It was definitely a post divorce project. I guess it was a symbol of journeying into some sort of unknown.

Whereas in the past I would have played safe by sticking to what the pattern said - even a designer like Fassett gave exact yarns to buy and charts to follow - here I had started branching out by incorporating different weights and textures and following the inspiration rather than trying to complete a garment that would look exactly like the one in the book.

I had been inspired to be more creative with textured yarns by a one-day free embroidery workshop I'd attended in Windsor. That embroidery project called on the same jumble of texture and colour in different weights of wool and ribbons: a far cry from the counted cross stitch and other meticulous embroideries and Honiton lace created by my paternal step-grandmother Dorothy.

Yet both this 'something' and the free style embroidery had been hiding untouched for almost a decade - probably since my impetuously impractical pursuit of the provencal dream. There's not much time to knit and stitch when you have a 200 year old crumbling wreck to restore, while still trying to run a business in the UK and continue helping the fledgings fly the nest. You don't need freestyle embroidery where your whole life is freestyling around you.

But knittery and stitchery are forgiving friends. When the time is right they call to you gently and once more the process of working in their colours and textures is a comforting reminder of how weaving in the threads of our experiences, dreams and memories of others is what creates the rich tapestry of our lives - Our work in progress.

Now I know that the "something" will become a cushion; and it won't take another 10 years to complete. That's a promise to myself that will be a joy to keep.