Friday, August 17, 2012
With lolly pink wool, wonky aluminium needles and a good dose of concentration tongue poking I embarked on my knitting journey. Mum at my side no doubt trying desperately to control the urge to snatch the needles from my grasp and do it for me. She never, ever did.
Over and over she watched me slowly wrap the yarn and slip each loopy stitch off the needle. She unravelled countless Houdini knots and tangles. She soothed my impatience and gently steered me toward projects far more suited to my blossoming ability than that stripey blazer in the latest issue of Dolly magazine. All the while she knit.
She knit jumpers for my tiny adolescent frame when all those around swum on me. Special trips to the local haberdashery were made to peruse the wall of buttons and carefully select just the right ones from their little cylinder. Tortoiseshell, wood and pearl.
And still I while away many moments wrapping yarn and slipping stitches off the needle. Still the journey continues albeit much faster these days. Such pleasure it gives me to make fabric with my hands. Fabric that warms my neck, my toes...my poppet's heads.
A million thank-yous Mum for sharing your knowledge in your ever serene and gentle way.
Berets for my loves ravelled here and here.