Everyday, there will be knitters and crocheters blogging on similar subjects. Use the above code word to bring them up in google. Each day will have another number, (knitcroblo2, knitcroblo3 etc.) with number 7 wrapping up the week on May 2nd. For a more detailed description, check out Eskimimi Knits.
I'll lay it on the line: Where would this world be if it weren't for grandmothers?
Now that I have joined the legion, I hope I am worthy. I was lucky enough to live in close proximity to both of my grandmothers, and it became routine for them to look out for me. One grandmother lived next door, was always home, and became my main life line outside of school time. The bus driver would look up expectantly into the mirror and give me the look that asked if I wanted to be left off at Grandma's or my house. (I indicated with one finger or two.) She was a knitter. I almost said "exclusively" but I now remember there were doilies on the backs of the living room chairs and sofa, although I don't remember her making them.
She had one pattern for a "hat" that I recall, and no other. No socks, sweaters, mittens, nothing. Just that one "hat". I was there when she turned them out, a girl/woman's "hat". (Why does she keep putting "hat" in " "? Because it seems strange to call it a hat. Yes, for your head, tied under the chin, perfect for keeping ears warm, and probably perfect for the 1950's hair styles. I'll do my best to find a description or picture.) But she didn't teach me to knit. I found this booklet when cleaning out her house, and used these patterns for my first mittens and socks.
My "Mormor" who lived many places, moving from farm to farm, baking, creating, crafting, the best cook, (all the things my mother was not) was the one who inspired me to knit, and put the needles in my hands. She was my mentor and she hatched an intrepid knitter.
I remember big needles, big holes, dropped stitches, and no one worried about it. And one day, in 6th grade, our teacher said we would have free time during the day for any project we wanted to do. And what did I choose for myself? I was going to knit a sweater for me. I could read, someone helped me find a pattern, needles and yarn, and what did it look like? Maybe someone from my elementary school remembers: It was pink, there were pieces. I knitted the fronts, complete with pockets... dang, pockets! There were sleeves, and yarn, and a shelf in the classroom where I kept these things. My "recollection of my abilities may not be accurate" but I was darn proud of it, and remembered it as beautiful and soft, and even... Alas, it was never completed. Did it take longer than a month or a year? I only know that it was never sewn together, and lost in time.
I guess I've always been ambitious. Had I started with something less demanding... I wouldn't have been so interested in it!! My "Mormor" who would constantly try new things made me a believer in my abilities. She was painting at 60, quilting at 70 and writing memoirs at 80. She was my best friend.
Here are some needles from my grandmother.
Today I take on the most challenging projects, and many times they are successful due to sheer persistence. (Who is the "fixer" at knit night?)
I don't remember knitting in the obsessive way I do today as a teen. That "intrepid"ness appeared about 6 years ago.
Some of the things I inherited:
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