Who Taught You?

I was reading a survey about knitters.  The subject was whether or not knitting is DOA in these days in which we live.  The lady who put the survey together did a thorough job of it and the official answer is that ,"No, we are not out to pasture yet" with this art form we love so well.

Turns out that the bulk of active knitters fall in the 61 - 75 year old group, putting me square with the rest of that population.  Most of us learned from moms or grandmothers.  Some, especially Europeans, learned in school. Little English girls learned to knit in the dark during WWII when they spent hours in blacked out bomb shelters.  After I learned that fact, I taught myself to knit without looking.

My beloved mentor, to whom I shall be ever grateful, was named Janet.  I was a young mother with a tiny baby girl who wanted to learn to make her sweaters.  One day I was walking her down the street in her stroller when a fifty-ish lady came out and cooed over my lovely little one.  Of course she invited us in for tea and thus began a lovely friendship.

The thing about Janet B. was that she was an alcoholic, whose family had all but disowned her.  I didn't know what an alcoholic was, but she smelled just like my own mother.  And, because she wasn't MY mother, I was comfortable in her presence.  She was also a terrific knitter and she sat hour after lonely hour, knitting for her grandchildren who never came to visit her.  This is an insidious disease that separates families, or perhaps, in my case, put together a unique one.

In the course of our afternoon cups of tea - hers was liberally laced with Irish whiskey, we got on the subject of knitting and out came the needles.  Like any new craft, I was hopelessly all thumbs, but with infinite patience, Janet B. pulled me through the first and second projects.  She taught me that the knit side looked like little VVVVs and the purl side, like, well, little pearls.  The yarn came from the right side (you can see that she taught me to knit American style) and that if I really couldn't figure out which was the right side, to pin a little gold pin to that side of my work.

In due course we got only the subject of families.  She didn't have one any longer, and I tried like crazy to stay away from mine.  It began to dawn on  me that we shared a similar problem - alcoholism in the family unit.  But how could I want so desperately to avoid my own birth family when  I couldn't wait for my daughter to awaken from her nap so I could grab my knitting bag and go see Janet?

Much, much older now, I see that acceptance was the word I was looking for.  Janet accepted me and I accepted her.  She taught me that valuable lesson along with stockinette, cables and fair isle.  Let me tell you that we were fast and loving friends for about 4 years until she was whisked away by her family to a new, and I suppose dryer, living accommodation.  I never got to say goodbye or thank you, but I have done so many times since in my heart.

Because of our unusual friendship, I learned many things, knitting being only one.  I did make her proud of me, however, when I brought my first blue ribbon from the Ventura County Fair to her.  I had knitted my now toddler daughter an argyle patterned jumper.

I hope Janet's family finally came to accept her.  I hope her grandchildren got all of those sweaters and hats she so expertly knitted for them. I know that I found that it was completely necessary for me to learn to accept my mother just as I had Janet.  Sadly, my own  mom passed from the disease far too young, but by that time she at least realized that her daughter loved her.  Again, thank you Janet for showing me that lesson as well.

Think back on who taught you to knit and send a big old "bless you" out to the universe.  If you are reading this and wish you too had a Janet to help you learn to knit, we have free classes every Friday afternoon at Church of  the Chimes on Magnolia and Hazeltine in Sherman Oaks from 1 to 3.  By tradition, we serve tea around 2 p.m., no not Irish tea for heaven's sake, just tea!  We even have spare yarn and needles, both for knitting and crochet, and a lot of wonderful women who are eager to welcome someone else into the fabulous world of fiber art.

Come back soon, and hugs to you and your projects too,  Pat.

Not Everything You Make is Worthy

After you've been knitting for a long time, you can get a little tired of the things you've been doing and suddenly a "What if...." moment pops into your head.  Just bear in mind that not all light bulbs flashing on are winners.  Sometimes you follow your moment and end up with something you wouldn't really want to display.

My summer has been a symphony of these moments and some have lent me some marvy new ideas while other, although finished, should probably not see light of day.

I refer to my liberal use of soutache to hide mistakes.  It all started when I mastered I-cord on my knitting machine.  Zip, zip, zip and about ten minutes later you've got 12 yards of cord.  If you wind it this way and that, you've got soutache, a nice pattern of whirls that you can tack down and cover things.

Here's what worked...those nice cross hatches in the white area at the bottom of the sweater.  I suppose you can see what didn't.  The soutache below the nice cross hatches was meant to cover a mistake in the number of rows.  It worked, kind of.  The other soutache was meant to offset the heaviness at the bottom.  Altogether I like the idea, but this first application just didn't do it for me.  I shall press on though.

Here's the second "What if..." moment.

I'm still knitting the sleeves, but that bodice of the sweater is just fine and the sleeves will be too.  I got thinking that I'd like to turn the stripes in the other direction on the skirt and shir them.  Again the I-chord, yards and yards of it, came into play.  I'm envisioning delicate stripes and gossamer shirring.  I end up with material that's too heavy and too wide in the stripe.  It's not fit to sell, or give away.

But here's what I learned for the time and energy I put into both garments. The ideas were good, but I need to experiment with a wider gauge of knitting if I want gossamer. Then maybe I should gather with a length of yarn, not I-cord.  I need to cut the yarn and begin a new color so the stripes aren't so wide.  The idea of soutache might be better done with a firmer yarn - the red yarn was wimpy and the heaviness of the soutache dragged the drape down.

All is not lost.  I have shown both items to friends who think they are marvelous, but it's not what I had in mind.  I now have a better idea of how to achieve what I really wanted in the first place.

Knit and learn, friends.  Keep coming back and hugs to you and your projects too.  Pat

Oops..Now What Can I do to Fix This?

I hear this question a lot more than you might imagine.  For some reason my students don't think that I ever make mistakes and I have to actually point them out before they believe it.

No doubt my percentage of mistakes are about on par for the average knitter.  It happens when my multitasking mind takes a coffee break and forgets to tell me.  What I mean is that I can be knitting along and suddenly my mind is somewhere other than on my work, so my hands revert to muscle memory. Clearly, at least in my case, my mind can fail me occasionally.

Anyone who is a typist, knitter, crocheter, or many other crafts will tell you that as awkward as learning how to do their craft may have been in the beginning, after awhile the fingers and hands coordinate themselves and they don't have to think about the moves any longer.  It's the same as driving a car, walking, swimming - well, you get it.  But muscle memory really is separate from the brain waves you used when you were first learning.

Today in class Jane called me over to look at her baby sweater.  She was mystified by what had happened.  She's a new knitter and what seems perfectly obvious to me is not for her.  The 1x1 rib was darling, but it was actually a moss stitch.  Why? She followed the directions perfectly and she knit 1, purled 1 across the row, turned the work and knit 1, purled 1 back the rest of the way. And it would have been perfect except that she had an odd number of stitches cast on which is what you want when you mean to knit a moss stitch. 1x1 rib is done on an even number of stitches.

First of all, even if it wasn't what Jane had originally wanted, it was lovely and once she realized that it wasn't a rip-out mistake, if she didn't harp on it; she was satisfied to see it in a new light.  Next she had somehow become mixed up in the center of the back and although she had been doing a great, nice and even stockinette stitch, she suddenly began knitting on the purl side and purling on the knit side.  Muscle memory failed her and her hands went on doing what they did without her noticing that she was on the wrong side of her work. Again, call it a design element and be sure to repeat it at the front sides in exactly the same places.  Who's gonna know?

In short, I never use a pattern because I have a  mind that "sees" design and shape so I can get by with my eyes and a tape measure for added security.  That also means I am not married to a particular set of instructions.  Most people feel better if they are told what to do on each row and I admit I did too for years, but now I don't need it.  But that also means my students can deviate from the written design and it turns out to be OK after all.  They just need to believe in the shape of the garment and leave the various designs to develop for themselves.

Seen in the completely new light called "I Meant to Do that!" you can turn seemingly awkward mistakes into something unique.  Yesterday I was knitting the last 5 stitches on the front of a sweater in garter stitch - nice and firm and won't roll out.  I let my mind go out for a walk and suddenly I had 5 rows of garter followed by 5 rows of stockinette on  the front edge. I quickly added 5 more garter sections followed by 5 stockinette.  Try it out.  It's beautiful. Gonna do it again.

Here's to happy mistakes that lead you to unique new looks.  Your projects will get a lot more enjoyable if you don't let them shame you into believing you made mistakes.

Come back and see me again soon and have a great time letting your projects go where they will.  Hugs to you and your projects too!  Pat

What's a Boo-Boo?

Boo-boos are mistakes, the itsy bitsy ones, or the colossal faux pas that you can't ever seem to forget.  In my case, I'll start by telling you why I began this blog and why it's something everyone needs to know.

First the introduction.  I'm a charity knitter, nearly full-time, which means I've tried to help out a lot of organizations with baby hats, sweaters, scarves, etc.  And all of this was working well until someone said, "you ought to be selling your sweater sets."  Long story short, Etsy is a place for that, so I started up  my store, yesterday, as a matter of fact, and it's on Etsy.com under the name of Aardvarknittery.  It's all those charity sweaters and hats I didn't send off to unknown babies, but when they sell the money, less the commission, will go to charity.

Next you should know that I'm a retired educator and because of that I can't seem to stop teaching.  Along with my gorgeously accomplished friend Ginger, we host a FREE knitting/Crocheting class each Friday.  Even if you don't have needles, hook or yarn, if you show up, we do and we'll get you on your way.  Oh did I mention we also have sinfully wonderful snacks as well...just a little perk to the afternoon of fun and friendship around the art of yarn.

This is a clear enough picture of who I am, but back to the Boo-Boos.  In life we all have them, but there are graceful ways to extricate yourself. Philosophically, shutting your mouth and saying "sorry" covers probably 90% of boo-boos, but when it comes to fiber arts, you have only so many other choices, since this one won't work.

Say you are several rows into a project and you spot a big old mistake back down the line.  My motto is that if you hold it up and a guy gallops by on a race horse and he can't see it, then forgeddaboutit. If he does, then you may be forced to frog it...you know, ribbit, ribbit, rip it, rip it.  You carefully rip it out and fix it.

Or, you can toss the darned able mess into the fireplace (in winter), burn it up to cinders and begin again.  I mentioned this to my class one time and it elicited a violent response from one lady who seemed to think I'd tossed in a body as well.  I'm careful where I mention this solution these days.  If no one can identify the ashes, did you actually make the mistake?

But in the end, when you have a mistake, a boo-boo, you do need to address it.  I have found some interesting and socially acceptable ways of dealing with this.  If you want to know about them, just stay tuned and I'll spell it all out for you in the days ahead.

While most of what I say will deal with fiber arts and how to work with them, I have a lot of yet to be published words left in my personal wordy-gurdy - just turn the crank and out they come.  We may deal with life, because it continues to happen no matter what you are knitting or crocheting.

Come back soon and let me know what you are working on, or wish you were.  I may be able to help you find answers or places to visit where you might get the information for which you seek.

Hugs to you and your projects too,  Pat.