I often worry that I don't specialise in anything. That's a nice way of describing my inability to become an expert in any one area. "Why can't you just pick ONE hobby??" was a lament from my First Husband as he tripped over yet another ball of wool or jar of water or tins of paint. It's been a nagging worry my whole life. Apart from many things, it feeds my impostor-syndrome like a mother-flipper.

Why can't I stick to one thing and get really good at it?

In his most recent book, David Epstein explains why generalists thrive in an era of increasing specialisation. Range: How Generalists Triumph in a Specialized World gives example after example of people who have done well for having a broad set of interests. And "done well" as in "solved problems" - wicked problems. While this kind of breadth of interests isn't overtly encouraged IRL, it is valuable over a lifetime of challenges.

This isn't a book review, it's just me picking away at my own knitting again.

I've started doing that again too (not the picking, the knitting). And the patchwork, and the drawing, and I even had an inkling of interest in gardening yesterday having planted basil and kale and some other greenery while Googling how to make a raised garden to improve my plot.

I don't consider myself a particularly curious person. I don't ask probing questions of people. When meeting a new person after names and jobs or whatever is covered, I run out of things to say or ask or talk about. One part of me thinks being nosy is a rude thing, and the other part of me just isn't interested. As if I'll remember anything you say, anyway. Damn temporal lobe!

But I am interested in how things work; the process of getting something done; the challenge of figuring out a new or better way of doing something. Working in a team. Tik Tok. K-Pop. Fermenting. Weight lifting.

Puttering about with an idea is what I love best. Falling down rabbit holes is the most glorious thing in the world. I have been recently blessed with my own space to do a lot of that sort of thing. I've gradually taken over the basement and turned it into my own noodling space. It's not flash, but I've conquered it all. I have moved nearly all my "crap" down in my new play pen, and organised it just the way I like it. That's starting to ease the pressure of space upstairs too so there isn't much resistance to this situation at present.

I love having my stuff "to hand". The friction of looking for my tools when I need them drives me crazy. I love reaching for my scissors and they're right where they're supposed to be. My fabrics in the order I need them to be in. Computer cords plugged in where they're supposed to be. Paints in the cupboard. Guillotine left in the 'safe' position.

Last night after work I sewed - because my machine is set up permanently plugged in - finishing one quilt block and starting another. This weekend I'll be doing more of that, including some sewing for my grand daughter and some drawing for the Urban Sketchers group I'm in. I can leave stuff out, pick things up again, do 15 minutes here, 30 minutes there, 2 hours over there! I'll also be putting up a peg board for organising my tools, a cork board for pinning my ideas and a white board for listing my tasks.

You may never see my outside my play pen again!!