I'm knitting socks for my cutie son who is away on a LDS mission. Isn't that darling of me?
Yes -- and if only I were a knitter.
Oh sure, -- I've knitted practice squares and long plank scarves, --but I have learned socks are a whole different animal. And every dang time I go to read instructions it just makes me feel all the more lame. Even to "cast on 40" I need to crack open my Easy Knitter for Girls book and look at the pictures -which than makes me crazy 'cause it appears every ponytailed strawberry-shortcake eleven-year old can knit like there's no tomorrow -- meanwhile I'm doubled up in arthritic pain just trying to hold my needles the right way. Really I don't need these kind of comparisons (I have enough issues).
So I put away the picture book and decide to check out YouTube.
I figure there's a video there for just about everything - there must be a few about knitting? I'm looking for the perfectly nice granny-type, who will both show me what to do, and talk me through it in a soothing lullaby voice.
'See? There you go sweetie. I'm so proud of you, you know! Aren't you just the little knitter? Would you like a cookie?'
Come to find out -- it looks like nobody on a YouTube knitting video will even show their face! And I bet I know why -- it's because they know to knit, is not a natural state, --so they hide their pompous faces to keep from laughing while they imagine us mediocres desperately trying to keep up.
I can tie a bow, for pete's-sake, why can't I knit a darn purl stitch??
One Brit had such a delightful accent though, that while she knitted away I was lulled into a definite state of knitting talent - except when I looked down at my work I saw it wasn't knitting I had done -- but yarn origami . . producing something that looked rather more like an exotic twenty-four inch rainbow snake, than a sock.
In gentler times folk would sit around the fireplace at dusk, and gently prod their female youngins' into knitting slavery. They were eventually to knit every item the household needed --skirts, bedspreads, and rifle cozies. And this would start at a very young age because the older women were sick and tired of doing all the household knitting, and wanted to move on to something more liberating -- like soap making and varmint fetching.
Ahh for a simpler day.
You know, there is a hierarchy in the modern knitting world. Last time I went to get yarn, I picked up a lime acrylic skein while a lady next to me gasped. Had she not swallowed her gum in the act, I might not have even noticed -- but between the gagging and coughing, I couldn't help.
"Is there a problem?" I asked her.
"Oh, I . . I just was so surprised to see you pick that up," her eyes still wet from the choking spasm. (Or where they eco-tears?)
"Surprised?" I ask.
"Yes. I mean, you weren't going to knit with it, ---were you?" she replies.
"Oh No, I thought I might do some baking . . ." (What the heck, lady?)
"It's just, well. We only knit with natural fiber, non-toxic dyed." I took her use of the word 'we' to mean the rest of civilization, --bar me.
Yes -- and if only I were a knitter.
Oh sure, -- I've knitted practice squares and long plank scarves, --but I have learned socks are a whole different animal. And every dang time I go to read instructions it just makes me feel all the more lame. Even to "cast on 40" I need to crack open my Easy Knitter for Girls book and look at the pictures -which than makes me crazy 'cause it appears every ponytailed strawberry-shortcake eleven-year old can knit like there's no tomorrow -- meanwhile I'm doubled up in arthritic pain just trying to hold my needles the right way. Really I don't need these kind of comparisons (I have enough issues).
So I put away the picture book and decide to check out YouTube.
I figure there's a video there for just about everything - there must be a few about knitting? I'm looking for the perfectly nice granny-type, who will both show me what to do, and talk me through it in a soothing lullaby voice.
'See? There you go sweetie. I'm so proud of you, you know! Aren't you just the little knitter? Would you like a cookie?'
Come to find out -- it looks like nobody on a YouTube knitting video will even show their face! And I bet I know why -- it's because they know to knit, is not a natural state, --so they hide their pompous faces to keep from laughing while they imagine us mediocres desperately trying to keep up.
I can tie a bow, for pete's-sake, why can't I knit a darn purl stitch??
One Brit had such a delightful accent though, that while she knitted away I was lulled into a definite state of knitting talent - except when I looked down at my work I saw it wasn't knitting I had done -- but yarn origami . . producing something that looked rather more like an exotic twenty-four inch rainbow snake, than a sock.
In gentler times folk would sit around the fireplace at dusk, and gently prod their female youngins' into knitting slavery. They were eventually to knit every item the household needed --skirts, bedspreads, and rifle cozies. And this would start at a very young age because the older women were sick and tired of doing all the household knitting, and wanted to move on to something more liberating -- like soap making and varmint fetching.
Ahh for a simpler day.
You know, there is a hierarchy in the modern knitting world. Last time I went to get yarn, I picked up a lime acrylic skein while a lady next to me gasped. Had she not swallowed her gum in the act, I might not have even noticed -- but between the gagging and coughing, I couldn't help.
"Is there a problem?" I asked her.
"Oh, I . . I just was so surprised to see you pick that up," her eyes still wet from the choking spasm. (Or where they eco-tears?)
"Surprised?" I ask.
"Yes. I mean, you weren't going to knit with it, ---were you?" she replies.
"Oh No, I thought I might do some baking . . ." (What the heck, lady?)
"It's just, well. We only knit with natural fiber, non-toxic dyed." I took her use of the word 'we' to mean the rest of civilization, --bar me.
"Oh no, you see. --Actually, I was just looking for the manufacturers address. I want to send those goons a real nasty letter about their mother-earth-hate'n products," I explained.
Whereupon, she glanced into my shopping basket and easily spied four other skeins of varying loud toxic colors, made of manmade material -- one even bragged 'Knit Him a Vest That Will Last His Lifetime, and Yours!' right on the label.
"I see," was all she could muster, but her beady judging eyes shot me a look of utter disdain -- and I knew right then and there I would never be able to run with her crowd.
Well no loss. So I'll never be a part of the Elite Knitting Superior.
If I hirer a knitter instead, will it still be the thought that counts?
. . . I'm going to mull that over, and get back to you.
2 comments:
I have seen your handiwork and I think your son should have his socks!
As for me, there are days when I long for Portugal, where in my first area, our landlady, also our R.S. president, would spend p-days with us, teaching us to knit, just as you have imagined might be on you tube. I should see if she's still alive and into broadcasting her talent in cyberspace.
Oh I am sitting here cracking up over the lime green yarn incident!
Do booties count as socks?
The ones you knitted my baby are pretty cute. Maybe your son would enjoy my sons booties? Maybe he could use them as thumb warmers??
Amy ;)
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