I'm not sure what madness led me to sit down at my sewing machine today, especially when sewing is not my most favourite activity. It's not as if I didn't have anything else to do. There was plenty I could have been doing - in fact, should have been doing - and sewing without a pattern wasn't on that list. Perhaps because so many other things had gone wrong already today, my subconscious may have wondered what would be the harm in adding one more.
Firstly, some history. I've knitted since I was a little girl: five or six years of age, I suspect. In the early days I borrowed knitting needles from my mother or maternal grandmother, but as an adult I slowly built up my own collection (with a few generous donations from my mother and grandmother, especially those tortoiseshell needles which were so lovely to knit with but so unpopular today - yes, I'm admitting to owning a few pairs). For many, many years I kept the needles in the cardboard tubes that are used for posting documents. Lately, I've kept them in a patchwork bag that hangs on the doors between my dining and living rooms (how did DH let me get away with that?). They have become a jumbled mess, especially since I now own so many pairs of circular needles, and a nightmare to sort through every time I want to knit something.
Today, I decided that enough is enough, and so with no pattern but a few ideas, I sat down and made myself a knitting needle holder. It took some effort and time (about one and a half to two hours), a few pieces of fabric from my scrap bins, an old flannel sheet for lining, and ribbon left over from Christmas gifts, and I had something that now holds all my needles.
The fact that it turned out, surprised even me, but I'm grateful it did. Now I just need to get myself into gear and hand stitch the binding into place so that it's actually finished - but to do that I suspect I'll have to remove all the needles and get them out of order ... again.