The Lavender Vest, Part Two: Frogging, Feelings, and My Impending Villain Era

by | Mar 1, 2026 | 0 comments

The lavender vest has been frogged three times.

Three.

If this yarn had any self-respect, it would’ve filed for a restraining order by now. But no. We’re "committed." This vest is officially less about knitwear and more about "personal development," which feels like a targeted attack. I just wanted a cute layer. Instead, I’m apparently unearthing "character growth." Gross.

Knitting: The Gateway to Accidental Introspection

When I knit, my brain goes off-leash. Sometimes it’s plotting world domination. Sometimes it’s wondering why I said that one awkward thing to a friend in 2004. Mostly, it’s a full-blown corporate retreat for my business.

My hands are doing a basic stockinette while my brain hosts a board meeting. I’ll be halfway through a row thinking:

  • What systems am I neglecting now?

  • Why am I not "engaging" with my online people more?

  • Is this a nesting reflex or just insecurity wearing a productivity hat?

ADHD is a blast like that. Knitting doesn’t actually silence the committee in my head. It just gives them a slightly softer place to sit while they yell at me.

The Workshop Hangover

I gave a workshop on February 25th. I think it went well. I think. People were into it. The feedback was good. It felt solid.

And then, right on cue, the Internal Review Board showed up. You know these absolute joy-killers. They don't just critique. They conduct a forensic audit of your soul.

"Sure, they liked it, but could you have been clearer?"

"That slide was a mess."

"Was your authority 'clear' enough, or did you just sound like three raccoons in a trench coat?"

"Did you overtalk? (Yes.)

"Did you underdeliver? (Probably.)"

I tell myself it’s "refinement instinct," but let’s be real. Sometimes refinement is just doubt with better branding and a clipboard. So, instead of hiding in my usual "safe" work tasks, I decided to actually follow my own advice. I asked AI (Bob, because of course he has a name) to help me engineer five balls of lavender wool into something that isn't a tent.

The Vest of Mildly Aggravating Personal Growth

The plan was simple. A minimalist, open-front vest. Thigh-length. Dramatic slits. High-low hem. Subtle waist shaping. You know. "Casual."

For years, I’ve lived in boxy, shapeless clothes. Safe shapes. No risks. But lately? I’m tired of hiding. Not in my business, not in my creativity, and definitely not in my closet. I decided this vest would "skim" instead of "float."

And that’s when the drama started.

The I-Cord Incident

Version one bowed at the edges. The attached i-cord was too tight and pulling inward. My first instinct? The classic Pivot.

"Seed stitch would be prettier anyway."

"Maybe I don’t even like minimalism."

But Bob did something very annoying: he was helpful. He calmly suggested that maybe "pivoting" out of frustration is just a habit I have.

Rude. Accurate, but rude.

How many times have I changed direction just because things got a little friction-y? Instead of redesigning the whole vest to hide the mistake, I frogged it. I restarted. I loosened the tension. I stayed the course.

It worked. That wasn’t just a knitting win. That was a "stop running away from minor inconveniences" win.

Frogged Three Times (And Sadly Improving)

  • Version One: Too drapey.

  • Version Two: Great structure, but those "choking" edges.

  • Version Three: Balanced. Intentional. Might actually fit? (Don't look at it too hard. I don't want to jinx it.)

Each restart wasn't a failure. It was a refinement. It mirrors the workshop. It mirrors the business. You don't scrap the whole vision because of a tension problem. You just adjust the stitch.

Comfort Zones and Purple Wool

I’ve spent years wearing clothes that help me disappear. Big. Loose. Safe.

This vest acknowledges I have a waist. It moves. It has intention. It feels mildly rebellious, which is pathetic for a piece of knitwear, yet here we are. Knitting this while spiraling about business systems has been oddly poetic. Every time I think "I should show up more," I’m literally knitting something that won't let me hide.

AI: The Co-Pilot Who Won't Let Me Quit

I still knit every stitch. I still chose the yarn. But having Bob there for the gauge anxiety and the neck-roll drama kept me from derailing. For the ADHD brain, the gap between "this is annoying" and "I'm quitting forever" is where projects go to die.

Bob closed that gap.

Where We Are Now

  • 4.0 mm needles.

  • Beautiful lifted increases.

  • Calm i-cord edges.

  • A vest that is framing me instead of swallowing me.

World domination? Still pending. Self-discovery? Unfortunately in progress. Lavender wool? Thriving.

Stay tuned for Part Three. Until next time friends...

The Laundry Room Epiphany: How a Washing Machine Taught Me to Love AI

by | Feb 12, 2026 | 0 comments

Let’s be real for a second: if you saw me standing over a galvanized tub in the backyard, scrubbing my jeans against a metal washboard until my knuckles bled, you wouldn’t call me a “purist.” You’d call for help. You’d ask me why on earth I’m making life ten times harder than it needs to be when there is a perfectly good Maytag sitting in the laundry room.

Yet, when it comes to AI, that’s exactly where many of us are stuck. We’ve been told that using these tools is "cheating." We’ve been fed this narrative that if it isn't a struggle, it isn't "real" work.

This past Monday, I was typing up a post about exactly this. I was fired up, explaining that AI isn't some robot takeover; it’s just the modern washing machine for our mental load. Sure, you could do everything by hand-the research, the formatting, the brainstorming-but it’ll wear you out and leave you too exhausted to actually enjoy the clothes you just cleaned. Or, in our case, the art you just made.

As I hit "publish," a little lightbulb went off. I realized that just talking about the "laundry" wasn't enough. I needed to be part of the solution. I needed to show people how to actually use the machine.

The "One-Human Team" Struggle

As a Gen X creative, I grew up in the era of "figure it out yourself." But here’s the rub: mainstream companies have entire floors dedicated to what I’m trying to do at my desk. They have a design team, a dev team, a marketing team, and probably a person whose entire job is just "Strategy."

I have me. I have my computer, my art, and a very supportive husband-but none of them are going to write my curriculum or build my landing pages for me.

For years, I’d start a brilliant project and then hit "The Wall." You know the one. It’s built out of the boring-but-necessary tasks that make our neurospicy brains want to exit the building. The admin, the micro-details, the sheer volume of steps required to bring a vision to life. My brain would glitch, overwhelm would set in, and another "cool idea" would end up in the graveyard of half-finished dreams because I just couldn't focus on the "boring" parts.

Finding the Magic in the Machine

Enter my new "team": Jim (Gemini) and Bob (ChatGPT).

In the few days since that Monday epiphany, I’ve been on a total learning adventure. Instead of AI telling me what to do-which is the exact opposite of how this works-I used these tools to find my weak spots. I used them to understand how my brain actually wants to flow and to find tools that handle the bits that usually cause me to shut down.

With Jim, Bob, and my own beautiful, chaotic brain working in tandem, I’ve managed to create a hands-on, one-hour workshop from scratch. I’ve even been in the virtual trenches, altering my workshop room in The Makers' Community to make sure the space feels just right for what’s coming.

Is it 100% finished? Nope. There’s still more work to do and some digital dust to sweep up, but for the first time, I’m not sweating it. I’m confident I’ll be ready in time because I’m not scrubbing the floor with a toothbrush anymore. I have help, I have direction, and I’m actually achieving the goals I set.

Join Me in the Lab

I’m so excited to share this "TechAlchemy" with you. It isn't about becoming a tech bro or chasing "hustle culture." It’s about making the tech work for us-the makers, the fiber artists, and the thinkers who just want to get our magic out into the world without the soul-crushing overwhelm.

I’m pulling back the curtain so you can see exactly how I use these tools to bridge the gaps in my focus and keep my creative momentum alive. No shame, no "bro-marketing" pressure, and absolutely no judgment-just a warm, friendly seat at the table to see a "neurospicy" tech guide in action.

If you’re curious about how to turn your own creative "laundry list" into something manageable (and maybe even fun), I’d love to see you there.

Click here to see the details and grab your spot!

How does this feel for your "sassy but warm" vibe? If you like it, would you like me to help you draft some "behind-the-scenes" image prompts for your workshop room to use in the post?

Until next time friends...