My First Needle Art~Knitting

I know this won’t be a popular post.  But knitting was the first needle art I was taught and now my granddaughter wants to learn. So it’s what is on my mind now.

Most of us progress through many forms of needlework, ultimately focusing on a few with greater passion.  Seven year-old Laurel’s interest in sewing, quilting and now knitting gives me great hope that she will be knowledgeable and enthusiastic about a variety of needle arts.

About two weeks ago, when Laurel announced that she would like to learn to knit, she also confided that she thinks those ladies on tv who bang their knitting needles together are probably not  knitting.  “Show me how, Nana.”

I silently groaned, having recently donated my complete collection of knitting needles–all sizes, all length–as well as a few bushel baskets of yarn.  But not wanting to lose the moment, I pulled out a little  “craft” learn-to-crochet kit that included about 10′ of nasty red yarn.  With some rummaging I found  a set of size 7 circular needles that missed the clean sweep of  no-eyed needles.  And so we began….

It did not go well.

After about 15 minutes of yarn splitting, stitch dropping and white-knuckle needle gripping, she looked up at me with those big hazel eyes and said, “This is a lot harder than it looks, Nana.  Maybe that’s why they just clank the needles together on tv.”  I insisted that we put it away and try this another day.

Shortly thereafter, I went to JoAnn’s (there is no longer a knit shop in town) and purchased a pair of size 15 needles and some kid-friendly bulky variegated yarn.

Friday, with the day’s homeschool lessons well done, Robert was rewarded with  computer time at Brainpopjr.com while Laurel and I retired to the back porch where she got her first successful knitting lesson.

The new supplies paid off, as she took to knitting like a duck to water.  The bright yarn made her grin as she accepted my suggestion to make a scarf for her AG doll Molly, who had come to school with her that day.  She gushed, “Oh, Nana, I think she will love it!”  I could squeeze this kid.

Shorter needles would have been nice, but the selection is slim at JoAnn’s.  With these pool cues she could stand in front of a roaring bonfire, roast a marshmallow  and never get singed.  But she managed.

By the time my son and DIL came to pick up the children, Laurel had finished 9 rows.  Okay, so  there were only 6 stitches per row, but with this bulky yarn, it amounted to a full 1-1/2” of scarf.  I was as pleased and proud as Laurel was.

Years ago, knitting was one of the classes I taught children. I learned then that the yarn must be appealing, the needles must be large and the project must be small.  It seems to be working with Laurel.

Knitting was my first needle art, learned when I was in 7th grade.  My best friend’s mother was a master knitter and wanted to teach us to knit.   My mother, a skilled seamstress,  wanted to teach us to sew.  But sewing didn’t interest me (can you believe it?) and knitting didn’t interest Susan (as an adult, she owned a knit shop!).  So every Saturday morning, we passed each other on the sidewalk as we swapped houses and moms to pursue our individual preference.

I spent my babysitting money on yarn, needles, and each issue of McCall’s Needlework magazine and had knitted several sweaters and afghans by the time I was in high school.  Like the teenager below, I took my knitting to school and sneaked it out when I had finished my class work.

I was a good student, so the teachers were indulgent and looked the other way. Today, the needles would be classified as weapons and I would have been expelled, never gone to college, lost all opportunities for a better life and probably ended up living a life of crime.  Thankfully, things were different then.

Of course, others took notice and before I knew it, I was teaching my friends to knit.This pattern continued and in my freshman year in college every one of the 50 girls on my floor made a pair of slippers under my tutelage.  I should have known then that teaching was in my future.

As Sadie, Sadie, Married Lady (if you are over 50 you might remember that Barbra Streisand song from Funny Girl),

I knitted afghans, sweaters and scarves for Christmas gifts.

I knitted a christening gown, used by both of my children (I wish now I had taken those sewing lessons from my mother!), and this coming home gown and booties for my daughter.

  In 1978 you didn’t know the gender of your baby.  With every stitch, I prayed for a little girl and God answered my fervent  prayers.  She has been a perfect daughter every day since she was born.

But she wasn’t so little.  My 9 lb. 1 0z. babe wore this sweet, soft yellow set home from the hospital and that was the first and last time it was worn.  Still, it was worth every stitch.

I was bedridden for  few months during that difficult pregnancy.  With all the down time,  I also made this fisherman knit sweater for my 3 year old Ryan to wear to preschool in the “bitter” Florida winter.  Well, he wore it the few times the temperature dropped below 60 degrees, but late that spring I noticed the sweater had not come home.  I was pretty disappointed.

At the end of the school year, I was observing his class through the one-way mirror  when the teacher held up a variety of lost and found  items that had not been claimed, including this sweater.  She asked if anyone recognized it.  My Ryan looked right at it and shook his head no.  I almost screamed through the glass!  I was happy to claim it after class was dismissed.

There was also a matching cap but that seems to be missing from the cedar chest.  Maybe I should check the lost and found at First Presbyterian Day School.

I’ve moved on from knitting now, on to heirloom sewing, smocking, quilting, and machine embroidery.  But I remember fondly how I loved to wile away the hours with my knitting.

Terri Click’s blog post about knitting at  The  Thrifty Needle  renewed my interest.  Now, with Laurel Cade wielding those long knitting pokers and wrestling that blinding variegated yarn into a scarf, I guess I will have to enjoy knitting by proxy.  I don’t want her to go to some other little girl’s grandmother to learn.