I've had so many comments and e-mails about learning to knit; here's the deal.
I learned to knit from my Dad. My Mom doesn't knit and, as far as I know, has never had any interest in learning. Dad was the youngest of eight children and his older sisters taught him. He taught me. I did a few very simple pieces as a child. A stocking cap, a pair of slippers, nothing too special. Soon, I lost interest.
In my mid-twenties, I picked it up again, for a few slightly more complex pieces. I really had no patience with trying to figure out what to do if things went wrong... as in: when I made a mistake. And, doing the finishing work was just no fun to me... Very soon, I stopped knitting again.
Thirty years later with news of a grandchild on the way, I went to the local Wal Mart and bought the little packet "I Taught Myself to Knit." Then, I ended up in Hobby Lobby buying a book with baby patterns (plus some reference instructions in it) and enough yarn to create what would become the MAMMOTH baby blanket, in the colors of sock monkeys (Little Man's nursery theme).
It might have been all over again, after I finished that blanket... had I not run into Laura at rug hooking, who was knitting this most exquisite wool! Stuff like I had only imagined!! She told me about Rose Path Weaving in Lindale. I trotted right up there with my same little pattern book to find myself yarn for... this time, a sweater for Little Man...
Well, the rest is history. I've been addicted to the colors, the textures, the fibres, the patterns, the sheer beauty... ever since.
I'm not afraid of making mistakes anymore. Life has taught me that I have what it takes to trace them back and, most times, the ability to make it right. There are a few things along the way you just have to frog (give up and tear it out) and start over. As long as you have breath, you can start over.
All photos are taken at Rose Path Weaving in Lindale. Regina, center right, is the owner. This is a wonderful group of ladies.
There are always people showing up to knit in the yarn stores. Just go sit at the table with them, never would anyone who knits not be willing to share her knowledge. (Okay, they say you should never say never, but I'm going out on a limb here anyway. I believe all knitters are willing to pass it on.)
Strangely, I consider knitting a woman's art, passed from generation to generation, though I was taught by a man. There is something amazingly timeless about the way women, who sit around the knitting table, share each others' lives. Today, I listened to one of the most touching stories I have ever heard. A story of how, one stitch at a time, K. had knit her life back together after losing her husband to cancer... one year ago last week.
Knitting's therapeutic value cannot be overstated. It is a salve for my soul.. and others as well.
Knitting can be as simple as swaying to the music with your high school sweetheart... or as intense and precise as the tango with a stranger.
Your choice: Simple and repetitive or intense and focused.
Either way, it is a beautiful dance.
Thank you, to those of you who asked, for giving me reason to ramble on about one of my joys/therapies. I hope just one of you is inspired to pick up the needles.
If you do, please remember, knitting is like anything else... you don't start out with a PhD. ;) Be gentle with yourself.
blessings ~ tanna