I can hardly believe it, but it’s true: five years ago today, I learned to knit.
On Thursday, June 7, 2007, when Jeff and I were newly married, still living in Kirksville and finishing up our undergrad degrees, I went to Wal-Mart and bought some straight needles and Red Heart, and did this:
It took me 20 minutes to cast on three stitches, and the rest of the afternoon to create a few wobbly, mistake-ridden rows of garter stitch:
My heart aches for the tender young thing that I was, so dedicated and so confused.
And I haven’t looked back since.
Now it’s been five years (my gawd I can hardly believe it), and I’m still on the knitting journey. We’re living in a different city (soon, a different state), Jeff just finished law school, we acquired this thing sometime along the way, and there’s the impending arrival of Hoopling. Our lives are just about as different as they could be.
Except for the yarn everywhere, of course.
So how does one celebrate an occasion so momentous as a half-decade knitaversary?
How about with an FO?
(Yeah I know, any more self-congratulatory pats on the back and I’m liable to pull something.)
As the Knit Night-ers can attest, a few weeks ago I got a bee in my bonnet to make Veil of Isis, after getting lusty-lusty grabby-grabby about the one that Amanda at Knitorious made. So rather than steal hers, I decided it might be better to make my own.
About 6 weeks later, I was done. But not without much wailing and gnashing of teeth and bitching about 1,004-stitch rounds. I may have even offered to trade Hoopling in exchange for someone – anyone – to bind off on this fucker for me.
But none of you jerkwads took me up on that offer (::accusatory glare::), so I just put on my big girl panties and did it myself.
Summer 2007: Red Heart and holey garter stitch.
Summer 2012: Laceweight merino and (even more) holey (but now deliberate) lace.
To quote my dad: “I’d say that’s fair progress.”
Here’s hoping for many, many more years of knitting (and now, spinning)!
It would be an understatement to say I’ve been ‘bitten by the knitting bug’ these past five years. I’m pretty sure that at this point, knitting should be regarded a chronic, incurable illness. An illness that sucks up all my free time and too much money. An illness that offers no chance of recovery (and, if I’m being honest, one that I have no *desire* from which to recover.).
Last week I was talking on the phone with my aunt, an incredibly talented and prolific quilter. She and I started chatting about the idea of finding your true craft: the one which perfectly meshes with your proclivities and ambitions and passions, the one that comes naturally to you, the one that you can’t imagine living without. Some people are easily multicraftural (I flatter myself that I might be in that number), but if you sit on them and poke them with pointy sticks I bet most crafters will admit to having one thing that they just get. One thing that they’d choose over any other, that their lives would be truly empty without.
I think it’s safe to say: for me, it’s knitting.
I’m so glad I picked up those crappy-ass needles and that nasty acrylic yarn five years ago.
What’s your One True Craft?