I don’t sleep a lot these days.
I have two small children and they don’t tend to sleep much either, which is the main reason I am somewhat starved of the old z’s. Fair enough.
But more and more these days I find that I can’t sleep till I’ve just done this lace repeat on my new socks or finished sewing together that hair grip or added the buttons to that bib.
Part of it is that in the daytime I get very little time I can call my own. I am constantly bombarded with Other Things. Which is fine and wonderful but it means that this time, the middle of the night time, it’s become almost a guilty pleasure. It’s quiet, apart from the clock in the lounge room and the occasional snore from the baby in the corner. I can knit or sew away obsessively and there’s no shouts of “MUMMY” or hideous children’s television to distract me from just working away peacefully, stitch by stitch till I’m done.
And sometimes I just can’t sleep till it’s finished.
Which is why it’s almost 2.30 am and I am sitting here on the lounge room floor, rocking the baby back to sleep and hand stitching a giant owl plush. I finished another brooch and two bibs earlier and I just thought “y’know what’d be a great way to finish my day? Sewing a giant owl with big red eyes.”
Three hours later and I am almost up to stuffing him.