Looking back with gratitude, looking forward with intention

I’m not entirely sure how I feel about this time of year.

When I was a little girl, my mother hosted her annual Christmas party on the Saturday after Christmas. I loved that there was still something festive to look forward to–no big emotional drop after weeks of buildup. She always said that the season was really just getting started on Christmas day and that the Twelve Days of Christmas go from Christmas Day through Epiphany on January 6th. It was a gentler way to let the season wind down instead of rushing everything out the door.

These days, Christmas seems to start sometime around Halloween, so by December 26th, I’m a little… done. Rather than continuing to focus on Christmas, I host a festive New Year’s Eve dinner with close friends, and my attention naturally shifts toward what’s next.

The days between Christmas and New Year’s have become a time for reflection and taking stock. One practice I started several years ago is going through my calendar and writing down all the good and happy things that happened during the year. They don’t have to be big. It might be a wonderful lunch with a friend, a moment that made me proud, or something that simply felt right.

The point is to focus on the positive. And if there was something difficult, I try to notice what I learned and give myself a little credit for handling it as well as I did.

I don’t just think about these moments. I write them down. On a fresh piece of paper. There’s something powerful about seeing them in your own handwriting. It makes them more real somehow. (If anyone wants to validate this with actual science in the comments, please do.)

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The sweaters that marked the year

As a knitter, I like to do the same thing with my projects.

This year, I was so busy scolding myself over Hunslett (more on that later) that I couldn’t remember anything else I’d knit. But when I actually went back through the year, I discovered that I had finished seven sweaters. Not an enormous number, but a solid, satisfying amount.

And with every sweater, I learned something. Sometimes about knitting. Sometimes about myself.

Sweaters tell stories. They mark where you were, what you were drawn to, what you were figuring out at the time. This week on YouTube, I’m sharing my 2025 sweater journey and the stories behind those projects. Knitting is a record of growth, not perfection, and no matter how long you’ve been at it, there’s always something new to learn.

What 2025 taught me, as a knitter and a business owner

Looking at both the sweaters and the calendar, I realized that 2025 was a year of learning and choosing more carefully.

As a knitter, I became more thoughtful about what I cast on. I deliberately chose some designs with construction styles that were less familiar to me. This year I have been working to gain a deep understanding of how to get a perfect fit with a top down sweater. I knit sweaters in construction styles I typically avoid, like raglans, and I’ve learned that I actually quite like them, if designed well. I have forced myself to choose projects that have something to teach me, even if it is just about what I do and don’t like. So, I am letting go of some preconceived notions and that simply don’t fit me anymore.

The same thing happened in the business.

There were moments this year when it became clear that not everything needs to be carried forward just because it’s familiar. Some things are good, but not right anymore. Letting go of them isn’t failure—it’s discernment. Choosing what belongs in the next chapter makes room for work that feels more aligned, more useful, and more satisfying.

Crazy for Ewe is evolving with purpose.

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Letting go to make room for what fits better

One very tangible example of this showed up when we moved the shop this year.

The new space is smaller, but it feels right. Cozier. More intimate. People have told me how much they like being able to see everything at once, how welcoming it feels rather than overwhelming. And truthfully, it suits my needs—and the way I want the shop to feel—much better.

Of course, every choice comes with trade-offs.

The new space doesn’t easily support things like afternoon tea in the shop or our semi-annual in-store retreats. We tried moving tea to a hotel, but it felt disconnected—too far removed from the heart of what makes those gatherings special.

Rather than forcing something that didn’t quite fit, I’ve been sitting with the question of what would feel better.

And the answer isn’t “less,” but different.

Instead of afternoon tea in the shop, I’m imagining outings together—perhaps a visit to a beautiful tea room—where we can still gather around Rowan Magazine, sample yarns, and spend time together, but in a way that feels intentional and special.

The same is true for retreats. After our February retreat, Leonardtown won’t be the setting for future retreats—not because it wasn’t lovely, but because what I can uniquely offer goes beyond the walls of the shop.

Travel, community, and shared experience

One of my happiest memories of 2025 was our group trip to England. Eleven wonderful women and I traveled together to take classes with three of Rowan Yarns’ most celebrated designers.

What I loved most was doing things as a group. Slowing the pace and coming together with knitting as a shared language. Doing special things with people who truly understand why these experiences matter.

Travel, for me, is an extension of community. It’s aspirational, yes, but grounded. It’s part of a life well knit, not a luxury add-on.

Going forward, retreats will look more like carefully designed mini journeys. Smaller cousins to the larger trips we plan to offer annually, like our South of France adventure in April 2027. These unique knitting experiences are possible because of relationships I’ve spent years building, and they’re some of the most meaningful ways I know to bring this community together.

Club Crazy for Ewe: the work that matters most

At the center of all of this is Club Crazy for Ewe.

What I see happening inside the Club is exactly the kind of work I want to do more of. Knitters gaining confidence. Asking better questions. Understanding why something works instead of just following instructions. Finishing sweaters they’re genuinely proud to wear.

The conversations have deepened. The learning has become cumulative. This isn’t about quick fixes or one-off projects—it’s about building skill over time, in a way that feels supportive rather than overwhelming.

That kind of work matters to me. It always has. I’ve been working very hard to find a model that articulates the multi-faceted approach I envision for the Club, and this year I found it. There are two frameworks that represent how Club Crazy for Ewe guides and supports sweater knitters on their journey to mastery, and I’m super proud to bring that together after the first of the year. When I do, we will not have a waiting list, but rather an open opportunity to get the help you need right away.

Showing up consistently

YouTube continues to be an important place for me to show up—sometimes to teach, sometimes to reflect, and often to show real sweaters on real bodies.

This week’s video, where I talk about the sweaters I knit in 2025, feels especially fitting. It’s honest and imperfect, and it tells a story—not just about knitting, but about paying attention to what actually works for you.

As tempting as it is, I’m not chasing trends there. I’m showing up consistently, thoughtfully, and trusting that the right people will find their way in.

Gratitude, without nostalgia

Before turning the page, I want to say thank you.

Thank you for being here. For reading, watching, commenting, visiting, knitting along, and trusting me with your time and attention. Whether you’re local or far away, brand new or long-time, you’re part of this community, and I don’t take that lightly.

This gratitude isn’t backward-looking or sentimental. It’s very much rooted in the present and in what’s coming next.

Looking ahead

As we move into 2026, I feel clearer than I have in a long time. Clearer about what I want to offer both in the store and online.. Clearer about who I’m here to serve. And clearer about the pace and shape of the work I want to do. At the end of the day, I am about helping you make things that are fun to knit and fabulous to wear. Things that fit perfectly, are finished with professional polish, and make you proud when you're finished.

The coming year will bring deeper learning. More meaningful experiences. And more opportunities to knit well, and live well, together.

I’m glad you’re here.

I’m excited about what we’re building together.

And thank you for knitting with me this year.

Warmly and with much love,

Ellen