Friday night I took the boys to the local lighting of the greens. It was a simple affair with the town decorated, a stage for church choirs and Santa hanging out on a park bench. The boys loved it, although I think they were more excited to see the Chick fil-A cow than Santa. The highlight of the evening was the village train set lit up with Christmas decorations and all the trains running. The boys climbed up on a bench and were every bit as glued to the sight as a video game. Everytime the trains crossed paths they shouted "they're going to crash!" Nothing could have been more exciting than a fiery crash on the little holiday express. I did wonder if I might be able to tip the conductor of the remote controls for a minor derailment. The next great adventure took place at the VFW commemorative cannon enticingly bolted to the ground in the center of the square. Their faces were glowing as they slipped into a world of pretend, dragging several other willing boys with them into fierce battle, climbing around on the big gun and hiding behind it. I felt bad for the children whose parents rushed them on from the scene, depriving them of the very rare opportunity to just play. All in all, the evening was a great success, not at all like my lastest knitting project.
A couple years ago, on my way to NCCAT, I stopped at a wonderful yarn shop in Ashville and bought an exquisite little ball of silk yarn. The display showed a pattern for a ruffle scarf knit lengthwise. It was the perfect project for a week long get away. There are only nine rows but the cast on is enormous. It seems odd as you are knitting it and you can't see until the end that it really does work. I was very pleased with the outcome and stashed the pattern for further use. Well, this week I brought it out again but for an entirely different kind of yarn. This time I used a bulky alpaca. The results were disasterous! It was miles long and looked like a twisted mess of yarn. Even though it was late last night when I finished it, I had to pull the whole project out and rewind the yarn back into its lovely state of possibility...ready for a second chance as a nice, traditional basic scarf.
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
Essay Contest
I decided to extend my Denmark travel blog into a random knitting journal; mostly random thoughts plus a little bit of knitting. I was super excited today when someone told me they saw that Vanna White was having an essay contest to describe how you learned to knit or taught someone else to knit. I had already prepared what I was going to say, when I read the rules of 50 words or less. Fifty words! Do you realize how hard it is to tell a story in 50 words? Blogging was invented for people who need 50 words to say hello, but I relished the challenge and managed to condense the following story into 49 words. (I thought I had an exact 50, but had to change everything when I realized there is no hyphen in yarn over!)
This essay is really more about my sister than about learning to knit, although she is responsible for my current obsession with knitting and fiber. It all started several years ago when, as a homeschooling mom, she attended a knitting workshop that extolled all the educational benefits of knitting for children. Apparently, she had some difficulty in the session but walked out with a determination to master the skill. Now, a word about my sister and determination. This is the same person who sat for hours on a sandy beach painstakingly removing every knot from a horribly twisted kite string. I know for a fact that I would have trashed the thing without a second thought and gone happily on to the next event, but challenge has never been my forte. My ex-husband used to say that my motto was "If it is hard, give up". That was two husbands ago and I have now given up on marriage. Anyway, my sister thus began a journey to teach herself to knit. This was before the days of youtube videos and Stitch n'Bitch, but she became one of the most exquisite knitters I have ever known. I admired her work so much that on a visit from Ohio, she took me to Michael's and bought me a pair of size 8 needles, some worsted weight yarn and a knitting kit with stitch holders, stitch markers, a yarn needle and other little accessories. (I didn't know until later that she herself didn't own anything so cool as that. It is just like her to put me first!) She taught me the basics of the knit stitch and I was off to make a 5 ft garter stitch scarf that I gave her as a Christmas present the following year. I didn't pick up the needles again until, years later, I found myself in the hospital on long term bedrest with my third child. It was the perfect time. I picked up the yarn and called my sister. From her home in Ohio to my hospital bed in North Carolina, she gently guided me every step of the way, through casting on to yarn overs (no hyphen). Since then, knitting has become my passion. Thank you, my dear sweet sister for teaching me!
Next time I will tell you about how she inspired me to become a librarian...
This essay is really more about my sister than about learning to knit, although she is responsible for my current obsession with knitting and fiber. It all started several years ago when, as a homeschooling mom, she attended a knitting workshop that extolled all the educational benefits of knitting for children. Apparently, she had some difficulty in the session but walked out with a determination to master the skill. Now, a word about my sister and determination. This is the same person who sat for hours on a sandy beach painstakingly removing every knot from a horribly twisted kite string. I know for a fact that I would have trashed the thing without a second thought and gone happily on to the next event, but challenge has never been my forte. My ex-husband used to say that my motto was "If it is hard, give up". That was two husbands ago and I have now given up on marriage. Anyway, my sister thus began a journey to teach herself to knit. This was before the days of youtube videos and Stitch n'Bitch, but she became one of the most exquisite knitters I have ever known. I admired her work so much that on a visit from Ohio, she took me to Michael's and bought me a pair of size 8 needles, some worsted weight yarn and a knitting kit with stitch holders, stitch markers, a yarn needle and other little accessories. (I didn't know until later that she herself didn't own anything so cool as that. It is just like her to put me first!) She taught me the basics of the knit stitch and I was off to make a 5 ft garter stitch scarf that I gave her as a Christmas present the following year. I didn't pick up the needles again until, years later, I found myself in the hospital on long term bedrest with my third child. It was the perfect time. I picked up the yarn and called my sister. From her home in Ohio to my hospital bed in North Carolina, she gently guided me every step of the way, through casting on to yarn overs (no hyphen). Since then, knitting has become my passion. Thank you, my dear sweet sister for teaching me!
Next time I will tell you about how she inspired me to become a librarian...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)