You-Knit Studies

I know my puns are lame. Give me a break.

Ever since I started crafting, a year or so ago, I never really gave knitting much thought.

I have good and bad memories of knitting. The good being the memories of my dear Nana who was never seen relaxing without a pair of knitting needles constantly in motion. My glamour-puss Nana who lived the tough years of the Second World War, who saw days of Wednesday Wash days where clothes were washed by hand in a metal tub and beaten with a carpet beater on the line. The Marilyn Monroe of her day who knew the hardship of living in a two room slum (one up one down) with no bathroom and one communal tap to share in a yard with an entire estate of women queuing up with buckets waiting for their turn to fill up on the dribbling water supply. The giggly girl who would trip up and down the newly built fell side estate after those hard, dark days in her peep-shoes shoes, coiffed hair and red lips. She knew the necessity of making your own and on saving the pennies but she was also a glamour puss of a woman who liked the latest styles and knitting for her was a pleasure and a way of getting the latest fashions. Remembering my Nana in her later years was always with knitting needles shoved in a bag, ready to be taken out whenever there were a few minutes to spare.

I also remember my mother teaching me the rudimentary aspects of knitting when I was four. I remember the little set of brightly coloured yarn and plastic needles that she patiently cast on (and on and on) and initiated me into the guild of womanhood by showing me the purl stitch and garter construction. And those lessons were never forgotten; it is the lessons by my mother that I fell back upon when I, once again, chose to rediscover this ancient craft.

But I also remember how frustrating knitting was - the squeaky horrible acrylic yarn (oh how that put me off knitting); the tense shoulders; the frown of concentration; the inability to learn fast enough and finish quickly enough. My mother knit for relaxation, but I swear at four years old after knitting two rows I was in such a quiet rage I could have quite happily gouged my own eyes out with the damn needles out of tension and frustration.

And so with memories mainly of frustration I left knitting. I felt that perhaps somehow I was simply incapable of this craft that so many other “real” women could master. Sewing, yes. It is generally quite easy to learn to sew by practice and trial and error alone and the satisfaction of seeing items finish quite quickly spurs one on. But knitting? Oi! You can’t bluff your way around it, there are generally no shortcuts and if you have no one to teach you then you have to read lots of boring words to “get” it. And I’m not really patient enough for reading; it goes like this for me: place the needle in your left hand and blah blah blah make a cup of tea I wonder if their is cake left and ooh look, shiny thing decrease increase blah blah blah. So I resigned myself to the fact that although I might be considered a crafter, I certainly was not a knitter.

But then. Something happened. A boom of a kind. A baby boom. People around me started gestating and incubating and birthing and estrogen was flying left, right and centre and *twang* my Grandmother Gene kicked in with a resounding *CLUCK* and the insatiable need to know how to clothe little people in warm things became an irrational insatiable urge. It consumed my every thought. Like these things do, you know Something needed to be done.

Browsing Amazon I happened to find many “How To” knit books, some come highly recommended. But nothing did if for me til I happened upon Baby Knits for Beginners by Debbie Bliss and the reviews were good. Unlike other “How To” knit manuals this was specifically geared towards baby items. That suits me. I do not intend to knit bigger items than that. The Grandmother Cluck Gene definitely only works for newborns, after that they can find their own damn clothes.

Why is this book so good? Well, it is a complete course of knitting from page one, building up techniques and apparel project by project. It is satisfying because baby items are, by their nature, small and the results are quick (which is great if you are partly or wholly result-orientated). And this is also a bonus if you want to knit with good quality yarn instead of Ack!-rylic, sorry, acrylic. I can’t afford to knit an adult sweater in Debbie Bliss; knitting bootees is pushing the boat out for me, so small items really does fulfill the Grandmother Cluck urge perfectly - quick results in good quality yarn.

And who knew how satisfying knitting really is? The steady click-click-click zones me out quicker than valerian. Those fingers constantly engaged in creating something beautiful soothes the soul. Seeing those stitches cascade off the needles is very satisfying and instantly grounds me. I feel a strange connection to my Nana, to countless other women (and men!) who also found the same satisfaction and usefulness in this ancient craft.

And aqua? Uh yeah; more about that another time maybe insha’allah.

xx