Do you remember the first time you learned to knit? Do you remember your first teacher? Can you recall the frustration? Remember the pride of completing your first project?
I remember my first knitting lesson. My mother was our Blue Bird leader and she decided to teach her little group how to knit slippers. I'm not sure how she did it. But by the end of the lesson, we could cast on, knit and purl - what an accomplishment.
The first knitting lesson my grandchildren was in August of 2005. If you remember, Katrina was hitting New Orleans full force and my family had come to stay with us in Tennessee. Well, needless to say, they were a very confused and stressed so grandma pulled out the "kid" size plastic needles, the inexpensive "Red Heart" yarn and started teaching the knitting stitch. We had the typical pitfalls of new knitters: more stitches that we started with; big holes where stitches were dropped and the occasional knitting needle falling out. By the time they returned to New Orleans a few days later, they were not exactly knitting but were definitely having fun.
This past week, I returned to New Orleans for a visit. It has been nearly 6 years since I have seen my grand kids. The first thing they wanted to do was knit. Of course the previous lessons had been forgotten. But grandma had yarn, knitting needles and 3 days for wooly fun.
Katie was the first to start. Katie is 14 and very tall and slender. Her hands are very delicate and can always be seen sitting quietly in her lap. She is soft spoken and kind. Since I have been trying to learn Portuguese style knitting, I cast on a few stitches and got her started on the purl stitch. Within a matter of minutes she was breezing along. After a few minutes, she had developed her own "variation" of Portuguese knitting was was engrossed in her project. By the time I left, she could cast on, knit, purl, cast off and sew a seam. You could see the pride in her face.
Lindsay is the baby. She is short, petite and has very tiny hands. So we got her started the same way as her sister; but, because her hands are so small she struggled. Then I had an "ah ha" moment. So we stuck the left needle between her knees and started worked with the right needle. Similar to the process used when knitting with a knitting sheath or pouch. She looked up and said "look grandma, I can do it to". So off she went to find her "comfy" space on the sofa dragging her ball of yarn on the floor. Lindsay was able to cast on, knit and purl and with the help of her big sister could cast off and sew a seam.
Finally there was Kody. Kody has a tendency to give up when things get hard and for him knitting was hard. Too many motions, too many steps, too much distraction. He expects perfection the first time - so much like his dad. So we went back to the "throwing" style of knitting. He immediately said, :grandma this is how I learned it in Tennessee, I remember this". He was still knitting in the typical Kody way. Knit for 2 minutes-go outside and throw the basketball. Play with the dog. Play his Game Boy. Pick up the knitting. It appears that his specialty is multi-tasking.
So there we sat, grandma, three kids in our own private knitting circle. For 3 glorious days, we laughed, knitted, cooked, joked around and had a great time. When I left to go home, I was the proud owner of 3 wrist warmers.
For me, the chance to pass along knitting to them was a privilege and an honor. The time spent was one of pure joy. I hope that someday they will fondly recall the time when they learned to knit as I do. Maybe they will even take it up again when they are older and tell their friends of how they learned to knit.
Friday, April 8, 2011
Friday, March 4, 2011
Coming Unraveled
Every once in a while, I have to unravel my knitting. I'm sure that others have had that "experience" as well. This week, I experienced unraveling on a different level.
While my husband and I were out to dinner, we were approached by an elderly gentlemen. He was neatly dressed, clean shaven, caring a walking stick. He had a pleasant smile and a very pleasant manner. He sat down at our table and asked very simply. "I need a to get home." Needless to say, this threw both of us for a curve. First of all, we didn't know this gentlemen. And since we live in a large city with a reputation of being one of the top 10 most dangerous places in the U.S., we were leary of him.
As I watched him and listened to his conversations, it became apparent that he was lost on many levels other than physically. He spoke of leaving the house that morning to take a walk (it was now 930 pm) and how he had taken a wrong turn. He knew his address; however, we were not familiar with where it might be located. As he continued to ask for help, he became a little bit more agitated. Exactly like when I start to unravel a knitting project and my frustration begins to rise to the surface.
Our first response was to contact the management of the restaurant and ask that they contact someone to assist him (like the police). Unfortunately, they didn't get the subtle message of him being confused and disoriented; and just continued to ask him silly questions like did he know his address.
So, just like with unraveling a knitting project we began to untie the knots and untangle the mess. We asked several individuals in the restaurant if they knew where this street might be. A lovely young woman came up to say she knew where his address was and that she would take him home. The lovely gentlemen was very excited and rose to leave with her. A few minutes later, he came back in the restaurant to shake our hand and thank us. In that short moment of time, he again was lost...couldn't remember which young lady in the restaurant was going to give him a ride and started approaching individuals who had just come through the door asking where their car was so that they could take him home. Again for him life was unraveling.
On this day, I saw a life unravel a little bit, the threads of sanity become tangled, the knots of fear start to rise; but I also saw the strength of kindness and caring of a young mother who took the time to untangle this little life that was unraveling just like I'm sure she does in her daily life.
While my husband and I were out to dinner, we were approached by an elderly gentlemen. He was neatly dressed, clean shaven, caring a walking stick. He had a pleasant smile and a very pleasant manner. He sat down at our table and asked very simply. "I need a to get home." Needless to say, this threw both of us for a curve. First of all, we didn't know this gentlemen. And since we live in a large city with a reputation of being one of the top 10 most dangerous places in the U.S., we were leary of him.
As I watched him and listened to his conversations, it became apparent that he was lost on many levels other than physically. He spoke of leaving the house that morning to take a walk (it was now 930 pm) and how he had taken a wrong turn. He knew his address; however, we were not familiar with where it might be located. As he continued to ask for help, he became a little bit more agitated. Exactly like when I start to unravel a knitting project and my frustration begins to rise to the surface.
Our first response was to contact the management of the restaurant and ask that they contact someone to assist him (like the police). Unfortunately, they didn't get the subtle message of him being confused and disoriented; and just continued to ask him silly questions like did he know his address.
So, just like with unraveling a knitting project we began to untie the knots and untangle the mess. We asked several individuals in the restaurant if they knew where this street might be. A lovely young woman came up to say she knew where his address was and that she would take him home. The lovely gentlemen was very excited and rose to leave with her. A few minutes later, he came back in the restaurant to shake our hand and thank us. In that short moment of time, he again was lost...couldn't remember which young lady in the restaurant was going to give him a ride and started approaching individuals who had just come through the door asking where their car was so that they could take him home. Again for him life was unraveling.
On this day, I saw a life unravel a little bit, the threads of sanity become tangled, the knots of fear start to rise; but I also saw the strength of kindness and caring of a young mother who took the time to untangle this little life that was unraveling just like I'm sure she does in her daily life.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Junk Mail Junky
Am I the only person in the universe that looks forward to junk mail? Not just any junk mail of course, but any catalog or brochure that is related to wooly bits. I love to look at the patterns, colors of the yarn, the titles of new books. I lust after the floor weaving looms. (Even though the place I currently live couldn't hold one.) I drool over spinning wheels, drop spindles, niddy noddies, and skein winders. I consider how long it will take me to save for the one ounce of Qiviut, Buffalo, or Yak. Maybe it's the possibilities that I find so intriguing.
My love of junk mail and the possibilities has me wanting to order more catalogs. But I can justify this. I'm keeping my local mail carrier employed. Okay, sure, I'm killing a few more trees--unless of course the paper is being recycled. But those possibilities are so hard to ignore.
Has my problem become serious; is it impacting my family, career; do I need a twelve-step program or an intervention; do I care? No not really. Got to go, hubby just brought in the latest Knit Picks catalog....must check out the newest possibilities and plan the upcoming and future WIP.
My love of junk mail and the possibilities has me wanting to order more catalogs. But I can justify this. I'm keeping my local mail carrier employed. Okay, sure, I'm killing a few more trees--unless of course the paper is being recycled. But those possibilities are so hard to ignore.
Has my problem become serious; is it impacting my family, career; do I need a twelve-step program or an intervention; do I care? No not really. Got to go, hubby just brought in the latest Knit Picks catalog....must check out the newest possibilities and plan the upcoming and future WIP.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Fresh Starts - New Year
Well, it's that time of year again. Time to make New Year's Resolutions that I probably won't keep and a few that I will definitely decide to accomplish.
To accomplish a goal, you have to set a deadline, design the steps to get there and break it down in to parts that can easily be accomplished. I get that. But I've also learned that the goals that I should accomplish (lose weight) are not the ones that I'm motivated to achieve. So this year, I've decided that I'm going to set goals that will be fun for me.
First goal, knit my husband a pair of socks for every day of the week. After all, he really does like my hand knit socks and he deserves a little fiber love for all the time he spends listening to my endless conversations about wool, patterns, etc.
Second, spin enough of my new white wool roving to make 3 skeins of lovely yarn for my first dyeing project. I love the look of hand-dyed yarn and envy all of those talented individuals that make the lovely fiber that I lust after each time I cruise the web.
Clear out my yarn stash. I like many fiberholics I can't resist a soft, fluffy, squishy bundle of yarn. How will I clear out my stash, well Christmas 2011 is coming.
Finally, weave a scarf on my Spencer rigid heddle loom. For those weaving experts out there, I realize that my little loom is classified as a toy; but, I've figured out a way to get a nice tight weave that will make a lovely scarf.
So, now that I've written down those goals/resolutions. I guess I'd better get down to organizing the steps to get them done. Yes, I'll suffer periods of time where the goals will be ignored or I'll wonder why I set myself up for failure. But, can a fiberholic among us really say that these resolutions aren't worth the price? Let the suffering begin :)
To accomplish a goal, you have to set a deadline, design the steps to get there and break it down in to parts that can easily be accomplished. I get that. But I've also learned that the goals that I should accomplish (lose weight) are not the ones that I'm motivated to achieve. So this year, I've decided that I'm going to set goals that will be fun for me.
First goal, knit my husband a pair of socks for every day of the week. After all, he really does like my hand knit socks and he deserves a little fiber love for all the time he spends listening to my endless conversations about wool, patterns, etc.
Second, spin enough of my new white wool roving to make 3 skeins of lovely yarn for my first dyeing project. I love the look of hand-dyed yarn and envy all of those talented individuals that make the lovely fiber that I lust after each time I cruise the web.
Clear out my yarn stash. I like many fiberholics I can't resist a soft, fluffy, squishy bundle of yarn. How will I clear out my stash, well Christmas 2011 is coming.
Finally, weave a scarf on my Spencer rigid heddle loom. For those weaving experts out there, I realize that my little loom is classified as a toy; but, I've figured out a way to get a nice tight weave that will make a lovely scarf.
So, now that I've written down those goals/resolutions. I guess I'd better get down to organizing the steps to get them done. Yes, I'll suffer periods of time where the goals will be ignored or I'll wonder why I set myself up for failure. But, can a fiberholic among us really say that these resolutions aren't worth the price? Let the suffering begin :)
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Sister Secrets
When my sister and I were very young mothers we shared secrets. Like all secrets, ours required that we be quick-witted, stealthy, and have above-average smarts.
My sister's secret was hiding the pages of the phone bill before the hubby noticed all of the collect calls. You see, the collect calls were from her sister who was in crisis at the time and no matter what the time of day or night, she accepted those phone calls. As a result, many pages of the phone bill magically disappeared. To this day, I can visualize her dashing home to meet the mailman before her hubby arrived to snatch the bill out of the mail box. I'm sure that eventually we were found out.
Our other secret was our secret crocheting pattern addiction. We had a favorite store that sent out catalogs each month with the cute new patterns. We would save up our money, split the cost, mail in our order (yes this was prior to the internet) and wait for the goodies to arrive. Once that cherished bundle arrived in the mail it was off to the photocopier, the yarn store and then a little quality time with those patterns, the yarn and my sister.
This memory came to me the other day when I stumbled upon one of those bundles of photocopied patterns from long ago. It brought back so many fond memories and the simple pleasure of having a sister to share secrets.
Psst....don't tell.
My sister's secret was hiding the pages of the phone bill before the hubby noticed all of the collect calls. You see, the collect calls were from her sister who was in crisis at the time and no matter what the time of day or night, she accepted those phone calls. As a result, many pages of the phone bill magically disappeared. To this day, I can visualize her dashing home to meet the mailman before her hubby arrived to snatch the bill out of the mail box. I'm sure that eventually we were found out.
Our other secret was our secret crocheting pattern addiction. We had a favorite store that sent out catalogs each month with the cute new patterns. We would save up our money, split the cost, mail in our order (yes this was prior to the internet) and wait for the goodies to arrive. Once that cherished bundle arrived in the mail it was off to the photocopier, the yarn store and then a little quality time with those patterns, the yarn and my sister.
This memory came to me the other day when I stumbled upon one of those bundles of photocopied patterns from long ago. It brought back so many fond memories and the simple pleasure of having a sister to share secrets.
Psst....don't tell.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Thanks to Mom
I have to thank my mom for my addiction to knitting. Little did she know during that Campfire Girl meeting when she had that small group of girls with sharp pointy sticks and yarn, that she would plant the seed of obsession in me.
I remember being so uncoordinated that I held the right needle between my knees and used the left needle to make the stitches. And casting on wasn't a skill I learned until many years later when I took the art back up. It was only one project (house shoes I believe) but it planted a seed that has lasted a lifetime.
It's funny, I don't ever remember seeing my mother knit again. It could have been that the stress of dealing with that many young ladies was too much. Or maybe I just didn't see her knitting. I do remember her crocheting and I seem to recall that one time she told me that knitting made her too tense.
So, thanks mom for giving me a lifetime of enjoyment. Mom, I realize that you probably don't even know what an influence this knitting lesson had on my life. You probably don't know that knitting was my stress reliever when life was knocking me around a bit; you didn't now that knitting allowed me the joy of giving a simple gift to those I loved; knitting got me through the some of the worst days of my life. Knitting is my therapy and I owe my sanity to my little knitting lesson from my mom.
I remember being so uncoordinated that I held the right needle between my knees and used the left needle to make the stitches. And casting on wasn't a skill I learned until many years later when I took the art back up. It was only one project (house shoes I believe) but it planted a seed that has lasted a lifetime.
It's funny, I don't ever remember seeing my mother knit again. It could have been that the stress of dealing with that many young ladies was too much. Or maybe I just didn't see her knitting. I do remember her crocheting and I seem to recall that one time she told me that knitting made her too tense.
So, thanks mom for giving me a lifetime of enjoyment. Mom, I realize that you probably don't even know what an influence this knitting lesson had on my life. You probably don't know that knitting was my stress reliever when life was knocking me around a bit; you didn't now that knitting allowed me the joy of giving a simple gift to those I loved; knitting got me through the some of the worst days of my life. Knitting is my therapy and I owe my sanity to my little knitting lesson from my mom.
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