About that Knitting Thing

I sort of swept by this new little addition to my life in my last post and really, I have intended to mention it since I picked up that first skein of yarn about a month ago.

It all was an innocent whim. Last year, Abby’s boyfriend bought her arm warmers. Being the non-trendy crew we are, we’d never seen such a thing and were instantly both intrigued and obsessed with finding more of these warm, cute fingerless gloves for her. We found a number of pairs for Christmas 2008 and got a few more this past Christmas. While looking at a black and gray striped pair she is particularly fond of, I got the insane idea, “You know, I bet I could make something like this.”

Now, it’s important to note that I hadn’t a clue how to knit. I knew knitting took two needles while crochet took one. I knew I preferred the look of knitted items over crocheted ones and I also knew both my mother and mother-in-law were knitters. My mother-in-law, particularly, was always knitting something – Mom did it more when I was a kid. I’d even asked Doris years before to teach me, but she, as a strong left-hander, assured me, a strong right-hander, that we’d kill each other with the needles before she could teach me anything. Instead, I relished in the hand-knitted items she made for my daughter…fewer for my son, as her eyes were starting to go wonky, and left the craft to her fine-tuned hands.

Even as her eyes begin to give, she never stopped knitting. She’d knit stuffed balls, thumb-less mittens, little sweater sets, etc…all for unknown infants whose mothers and grandmothers would buy them from her United Methodist circle. While she was hospitalized this summer and fall, she frequently would request one of us to stop by the house, pick up certain colors and needles and bring them to her. I even made a special trip to their home to deliver an all important $1 set of tapestry needles…$1 of which she insisted paying me for.

So, back to my whim. Once the thought came to fruition, I remembered that Doris would most likely have a stash of yarn, needles, patterns and the like to help me get jump-started. After a quick phone call to father-in-law, I was set. He was happy to have someone using the materials and I was thrilled to have her with me in this special way. My impatience won though, and I rushed to the store to buy one skein and one set of needles.

And the practice began.

And stalled. And knotted. And slipped. And pulled out. And began again. I learned casting on just fine and the two basic stitches, knit and purl. But, errors kept showing up and I couldn’t figure how to fix them without ripping everything out and starting over. Needless to say, I didn’t get anywhere.

A few days later, Alex arrived home with a plastic box full of yarn. On top of the box were two plastic bags filled with various pieces of projects – what she’d worked on in the hospital. I found one, lonely thumb-less mitten and an un-knit skein of matching yarn moping in a bag that also included the tapestry needles I’d just purchased for her. Right then I knew. I had to get this down. I had to learn.

I had to make that lonely mitten its pair.

Her stitches are always so perfect

So, I pulled out a skein of her yarn, not the blue yet, and started practicing again. Fewer mistakes. Fewer slipped stitches. I decided to buy a nice, thick yarn to see what I was doing better and before I realized it, I was on the road to making a nice scarf for my son. It was there I figured out how the stitches work, how to fix mistakes without ripping out the entire project, and even more importantly, how to shrug off a little mistake that ultimately wouldn’t matter anyway. In about a week, I was done, and he wears that scarf every day.

Handsome bastard, ain't he?

I quickly stitched up a single arm warmer for myself – a very simple, if not boring pattern, but it again gave me the confidence to finally grab that blue yarn.

Which I did. I stitched ribbing. I stitched a little lacing pattern. I stitched the stockinette stitch (look at any sweater you own…that’s it) and then I even…*gasp*…decreased stitches so the mitten would close on top.

I did it.

Okay, so it’s smaller than Doris’. Either my gauge is tighter or she used a bigger needle. But, it “matches”. Now that I’ve done even more knitting, I think I’m going to try again with a bigger needle and see if I can’t make them match this time.

Abby investigated and asked a very simple question. “Mom, what are you going to do with these now?”

And I wasn’t sure. I could give them to the United Methodist Women’s group. I could save them. I might be a grandma one day. And it would be a shame for that grandchild to not know the loving care their great-grandmother put into hand-crafted love. So, I’m saving them.

And I’m saving a piece of her. For me. For my kids. For their daddy.

It’s funny…I feel like I know her better now than I ever did before. All because of a little yarn, a little twist and a little needle. Knitting takes patience. It takes dedication. It takes concentration. And it takes love, especially when you’ve fouled up the 65.5th inch of a 66 inch project. You take a deep breath, you stitch backwards and you try it again. And when you’ve conquered the tough spot, the slipped stitch, the rough edge, the twisted yarn, you smile in relief, knowing that next time, you’ll do even better.

It’s a good skill in life, and I’m grateful that she’s whispered in my ear and taught such a valuable lesson.

Knowing me, I wouldn’t have listened before anyway.