But last night I undid four weeks of knitting. I was trying to knit a baby blanket for a friend. But I looked at what I had done and realised that there were so many mistakes that I couldn't keep going. And I certainly couldn't give it away as a present.
It was heartbreaking. And I couldn't face starting again. I'm not going to get another block of time like the last month to work on a big project.
So the craft was part of a season. A season of children going to bed early. A season where I had time at night. A season where needed to do projects that started and finished.
I think part of my sadness comes from the realisation that 2012 represented the start of a new season for me. Not that this new season is sad. But the loss of the old one is a little sad.