Snow arrived in my part of Ontario almost two weeks ago, and as it fell softly on my newly-raked lawn (just in time, phew!) I found myself picking up my knitting needles for the first time in a long time. I’m not sure what made me put them down in the first place, but I discovered a couple of three-quarter-finished projects at the bottom of a bag of yarn. So, with a cup of steaming tea at my side, I settled down to finish them up.
A young colleague at work had recently picked up needles for the first time. Her mother had cast on the stitches, but she diligently knit her way through her first project. One day earlier this fall, she brought in that project for a little guidance. Before the work day began in earnest, I taught her how to undo an error without ripping out rows of finished work. A week or so later, the project made its way she brought it back into the office again, and I taught her how to cast off her finished work and sew in the loose ends. She’s thrilled with what she’s made, and while it momentarily made me feel REALLY old to be steeped in enough wisdom to be the one passing on this crafty knowledge, it may well have been what guided me back to finish my own projects.
I don’t remember when I first learned to knit. My own mother must have taught me when I was very young. I do remember accompanying her as she guided elementary school girls through their first knitting projects – and wondering why they needed her to teach them something I could already do. I must have been about five years old. I remember really thick green knitting needles and chunky yarn. Was I making a scarf?
I remember marveling at how fast Mum could knit – and still does today. Her needles would fly and the clickety-clack that accompanied many evenings at home were quickly replaced with mittens and hats for my brother and for me. Christmas often arrived with new sweaters for everyone, courtesy of my Mum’s talents.
When my own kids were young, I tried to find the time to knit. Each of them got at least one sweater set as a baby, and one winter they got a trio of coordinated sweaters. A few years ago, toques made it under the tree, but I’ve never been as consistent with my knitting as I would have liked.
So as my tea cooled that first wintry day of this winter, and with a now almost-finished project reaching conclusion, I remembered the joy of creating something with my own hands. Perhaps I’ll make a trip to my local wool shop this weekend and find something new to catch my fancy.
A friend once told me that knitting was her key to weight control. After all, if your hands are busy creating, they can’t be stuffing potato chips or chocolate chip cookies into your mouth! Walking and knitting – maybe not at the same time – that will have to be my plan of attack this winter. What it is that Disney’s Elsa says? “Let the storm rage on. The cold never bothered me anyway”. At least not when there’s a knitting project on the go.
