a simple sort of order

I’ve been thinking for awhile that I need to find a hobby besides cooking. I used to count reading and writing as hobbies, but now I do those for a living. I’ve been playing an inordinate amount of spider solitaire this past semester, and I noticed that the impetus for this was the need to create a simple sort of order. Not Big Order, which might involve actually cleaning the house. Just Little Order, enough to calm the mind and practice a gentle discipline. Calm and discipline (or as close as someone like me can get to them) seem like good things for thesis-writing. And any good hobby also serves the dual purpose of helping one avoid thesis-writing.
I also wanted something that would be portable, inexpensive, and provide instant gratification. The most logical answer is some sort of craftwork. I’ve spent a lot of my life recoiling from the idea of doing crafts. (Don’t get me wrong, I’m not entirely immune: I did one cross-stitch project when I was 13 and stuck in bed with pneumonia. And I crocheted part of a baby blanket a couple of years ago because my friend Renee made me – but stopped because I couldn’t imagine any possible use for the thing, since my friends have long since had their babies and I don’t plan on having any myself. )
But the idea has grown on me lately, especially since Lauren, Shelley, and Liz have all blogged recent projects. I suppose it really shouldn’t matter to me that they’re all feminist academics, but I found that fact encouraging. So last night I picked up a copy of Stitch n’ Bitch and read through it. Today, I bought a pair of size 8 needles and a skein of thick wool/acrylic blend, and taught myself to do a garter stitch. Never knitted before in my life, but what people say about the book is true – it’s super simple and will get you knitting in no time, even if you have absolutely no experience.
I spent about four hours on my first attempt this afternoon, and my mind feels like it’s been swept clean. Loren wrote a little about this sort of thing in his explication of Sam Hamill’s poem that I don’t know the title of, and untitled poem, which seems to belong at the end of this post:
Wanting one good organic line
I wrote a thousand sonnets
Wanting a little peace,
I folded a thousand cranes.
Every discipline a new evasion;
every crane a dodge:
Basho didn’t know a thing about water
until he heard the frog.