My mohair sweater was supposed to look like this–only grey; it didn’t, so I don’t (knit, that is)
“Hobbies.” By definition, they’re activities people do in their spare time. That may have been the problem: For many years, I had no spare time.
In my younger years, I taught 180 adolescents, in public school, each day, and came home to squire my own kids to dentists, doctors, sports practice, games, CCD instruction, dance, etc. And due to circumstances, I never got the day (or weekend) off, as when an ex-husband takes the child. I had my kids 24/7.
Oh, I tried knitting for a brief period. I tried…I really did, but I continually mucked up. I never counted the stitches right, my loops were uneven (some tight; others too loose), and I never had anyone around to help. So, I quit. To this day, I keep the lone grey mohair sleeve I knat (past tense of knit?) in a bag atop a shelf in my closet. It’s a reminder for me never to pick up that activity again. One’s hobby shouldn’t bring on angina.
Then, there’s the time I joined a sewing class. For that, I hired a babysitter every week and bought a sewing machine, so I could practice at home. It was another colossal flop. I’d go to class and fence with my machine to release the material it ate.
I’d sit there, pounding the mechanism, threatening, “Give it up! Give it up!” The instructor just about had to have me removed in a straight-jacket. Today, I have two pillow cases I made that cost approximately $250…not because they’re beautiful, but because I stopped sewing after that (cost of machine).
When my kids were older, I hit the golf links, but that was a bust, too. I couldn’t find the ball when I hit it (usually into a grove of trees or right behind me); I suffered sun poisoning and the wrath of others who complained I took too much time setting up shots destined for failure. The pleasures of the sport eluded.
As a senior, I have time to identify my hobbies. “What shall I do?” Painting intrigues. In two workshops, I completed an oil and watercolor (I don’t know which medium I prefer.) Because two people wanted them, I reasoned: “They can’t be all that bad.” Still, painting isn’t my passion. I don’t get up every day, saying: “I wish I had more time, today, to paint.”
There’s gourmet cooking? (instead of boring meat and potatoes), traveling? (expensive and dangerous in today’s world); spiritual quests? (avoid the sweat lodges); marksmanship? (guns scare me)…
To date, there’s only one thing I’m passionate about… writing. I love sitting at my computer, composing and reworking the words of a piece for maximum effect. I craft and sculpt each, to send out, hoping readers will connect with me. To me, they’re every bit as noteworthy as the mohair sweater I never finished or the clothes I meant to create with my sewing machine. Maybe more so.
I guess, in the end, I’ve had a hobby all the time. Now, it’s time for me to discover what else I might love.
Biddy’s on a mission….