Confession time..

My name is Tracey, and I am  ........ 

Addictions are funny, aren't they?

I mean, not funny haha, but funny peculiar.

(Although having said that, I've read about some people's addictions that appear downright weird to me, but I digress...)

It's often not the person themselves that has an issue with doing...whatever it is...but the people around them that are affected by the addiction.

Clearly I'm not talking about life-limiting addiction to hard drugs here.  And

I'm not choosing to judge anyone else for their own life choices, and that means what assists them in getting through the day.

No, I'm talking about the addictions that you and I have.

Yes, you. 

And me.

I know, I know.

We are normal, right?

We don't have addictions!

Except..

Well, I do like the DVDs all lined up facing the same way or it feels kind of...wrong somehow - but that's just tidying, isn't it?

And when someone is popping in for a coffee I do like to plump all the settee cushions and plop some cleaner down the loo - but that's for comfort, isn't it? It's not an addiction; even though the very thought of not doing it gives me the collywobbles..

Then if MW was cleaning shoes and popped one on the table, I would leap to remove it quickly; the same if salt was spilled on the worktop - but everyone puts a pinch over their shoulder, don't they? They are just traditions... Yeah?

As for the growing stash of ends of wool balls - well, it would be wasteful to throw them out, and I'll be able to make them into something at some point. 

A winter's evening I'm sure. 

This year. 

Probably. 

And those new balls of designer yarn that are just perfect - I have projects all lined up for them, so that's why they are there....

.   .   .   .

Anyway.

I wanted to make my confession to you today.

Because I have at long last realised my own addiction, and it's been a long time coming.

I remember my sister and brother-in-law coming to visit us combining their jaunt with a trip to see the local town football team.  

They invited MW and me to join them in cheering on the greens..or the blues, or whatever they are.

(I know nothing at all about sport, have no interest in it, and tolerate MW's keen interest and er..well, his whole career in sport. Oops!)

It was November.

Flipping freezing.

I had on three layers, including thermals and I was still cold.

Then all of a sudden everybody stood up and cheered like mad! 

Except me.

My sister looked down where I was still sat in my seat and said, "What are you doing?!"

To which I simply replied, "Knitting".

I take knitting with me EVERYWHERE: in the car, to the supermarket, on holiday (the six hour ferry journey was perfect; the back seat of a six seater 'Rosalie' bike not quite as successful, but still attempted), in hospital waiting rooms, at home and when visiting folk. 

My daughter has at times said: "..and you're not taking your knitting with you!"

Yes.

There it is.

My confession, my addiction.

My name is Tracey and I am a knitter!!