I’ve discovered knitting.
For some of you, that will be enough. You know exactly what I mean. You know the sheer joy and bliss of holding exquisite yarn and using two sticks to shape it into something beautiful and useful.
Others of you will not have the foggiest. You are in the dark as to what pleasure this strange knot tying could possibly bring. You believe that you couldn’t make your hands work…like that.
I already knew how to crochet. My mama instilled in me that if you loved someone, you crocheted them something. If you really loved them, you used a scratchy yarn – always Red Heart. ALWAYS Red Heart. In our house, there was no other yarn but Red Heart brand. (Something about how it always retains it’s shape when you wash it.)
If you really, really, really loved someone, you crocheted them something scratchy and BIG. Like a couch cover. Seriously. Every person in our family has a big, scratchy couch cover. Always in the ripple stitch. We didn’t branch out much.
I have wanted to learn to knit for years, just to say I’d conquered it – not because I thought it would delight me so! I always told myself that I’d learn to knit when my kids were older. Well, I kept on having kids….and figured I’d better learn if I was going to before the retirement home.
I e-mailed my friend Connie, asking her for a baby hat pattern. I figured that should be simple enough. She obliged. The pattern called for FOUR sticks, no less! She assured me I could do it, and I did. Three times. I kept ripping it out, and trying again. The hat led to a sweater. My little Mariam was due and she NEEDED this sweater! The yarn I found was just that delicious. I carried my yarn everywhere, needles posed just so out of the bag so that people would ask to see what I was making. I needed to share this yarn. Bank robbers and criminals of all sorts should be taught to knit. It would break something in them, calm them, make them domestic and docile….
At least I know that YARN does something to women. It causes a feeling I can’t even quite yet describe. It’s kind of a mixture of how I feel about newborns, and sweet love, and creating, and melty little puddles where ice once rested. It’s chocolate and warm tea and a good book and fuzzy socks and a fireplace…all the good things in life rolled into one. And I’ve only just begun!
I know it’s not just me. My daughter, who hates to do anything crafty, saw my yarn, and something within her changed. She recently stood in the yarn aisle with me, touching them all, wanting them all, dreaming up projects for each one. So we will knit side by side, attempting to make our needles clickity clack like experienced knitters. What a relief to know that I will not pass on the acrylic ripple gene to my daughter.
In the end, I’ve learned that love doesn’t have to be scratchy. It doesn’t have to be a couch cover. Some of the best knitting is done on a small scale – for babies! It can be alpaca, cashmere, merino, soy, or bamboo. Good yarn gives as much to the giver, as to the givee.
(I’ve almost finished a little bamboo sweater. It feels like silk! My next project is a wool soaker for Mariam, and a larger one for Benjamin. Then some felted mittens…. Pictures to follow upon completion. The great thing about knitting for little ones is that you can make something beautiful that costs next to nothing!)
How about you? Any knitters out there? What are you working on? What are your favorite yarns and where do you buy them? Rhapsodize with me! :)