I want it yesterday!

I'm an impatient person. Combine this with the fact that I fall in love easily, and I fall hard - well, I can suffer tremendously from a dangerous affliction, usually seen in Western society; I want it all, and I want it now. I think the technical term is "consumerism", but here's the thing - I don't want merely to have these things (actually, not just material posessions; it's experiences and ways of being, too) for a temporary time, merely to dispose of them when they are no longer as fashionable - crikey, I don't do fashion in any sense of the word - I usually want these things because they are a piece of the life I want to be leading, or the person I want to be.

I see the handspun yarns advertised in 'Creative Knitting'; they're so beautiful, absolutely delicious-looking, but if you were to ask me, I couldn't even tell you immediately what I'd knit from this skein of $35 luxury cashmere or four-ply. But I'll see it, see the time, and skill, and patience that went into spinning and dyeing it, and that's what I want. Instantly.

I see the yarns that Stephanie Pearl-McPhee describes knitting with, and I feel 'desperate' to have them, to knit as she's knitting - I want to be able to make and own something as beautiful as that. But time and money are, as always, issues for us all. And if I were to own it, right now? It would either join the queue in the stash cupboard, or it would bump another project back in the line.

I am currently planning a vegetable garden. My aim is for my family to be a little more self-sufficient, and I want for us to be eating better produce, whose origin I can be certain of. I even went so far as to actually plan, then revise and plan again so I wouldn't go off half-cocked (like so many half-built IKEA purchases squirreled in cupboards around our house - but that's not for here). I researched. I called different landscape garden suppliers. I read books and internet articles. I talked it through with my Mum. I ordered heirloom seeds from the huge, huge range available from The Digger's Club at their exceptional prices, instead of more expensive seedlings from the limited range at some nurseries. I reduced costs (and built enviro-cred) by finding old pine posts and concrete pavers at Mum and Dad's to recycle for garden edging.

And yet, just as I am on the cusp of putting the whole lot together, while I am still on school holidays and so have time available to do this... Money has become an issue. Plus, I'm inconveniencing Pete and Wonderboy for at least a couple of days, having to drag them around and force participation (we need to borrow a trailer to pick up aforementioned posts, pavers and some hay and lucerne bales, plus a trailer load of garden mix - heavy lifting is smarter done in teams!).

I just feel like I get so close to achieving a goal, to find it's just beyond my reach, or totally swept out from under me. I do enjoy and totally love the process of creating the garment, the yarn, or the garden, but something inside me has set off a wee alarm clock - much like a biological clock, but this one's telling me I'm going to run out of time to achieve all the things I want to do, learn, see and experience. Excellence in spinning and dyeing? Tick-tock. Speed, accuracy and creativity in knitting? Tick-tock. Improving and maintaining our home and garden?

Time's running out, and Money is covering Time's back as he makes his getaway in a stolen car.


And then I read back over all that, and realise what a selfish being I can be. I have a beautiful son who, admittedly, allows me to fit some knitting, spinning and gardening into his busy schedule. I have a wonderful husband who tolerates m going on and on and on about these same subjects. I live in a nice home, and have a garden to work in and improve. I have my health, my eyesight and full use of limbs.

I'm doing pretty damn well, and push myself to think some Pollyanna thoughts (glad thoughts, or thanks-giving, I suppose). I think of people out there who are grateful just to be able to procure some seeds and a meagre patch of dirt with which to grow vegetables - and these may be all their family have to live on. People who would and could knit twine on a couple of bush sticks, had arthritis not taken their once dexterous hands.

This will hopefully serve to remind me of how lucky I am to be who and where I am. Things that come to us without effort sometimes weren't worth having in the first place.