the QuEsT fOr tOtAL rEcALL

I had come down with some type of throat thing, (strep maybe?) and for the last several days I and my knitting were out of commission. Too exhausted to properly obsess, I've put down my needles for a brief hiatus to recover. Having no energy to physically navigate and properly fixate over the gusset in this glove I've been working on, I've found myself really thinking about why I knit (did I mention obsessively), and where it all began. I have no recollection how I learned to knit in my youth. I made a scarf once, and aside from the sheer basics was completely useless. Crocheting was more my thing, and for years I pretended not to know how I learned to do that. What I did know was that I was in desperate need of an innocuous hobby that didn't involve a rifle, or a set of bows and arrows, so when I found out that this woman my father was fucking at the time knew how to crochet, I had her teach me. I was about 8 at the time, and for some bizarre reason that I can't recall, I was sitting in her home, and before long with hook in hand, I learned crochet basics. It started with a granny square that just kept getting bigger and bigger like the absurdity that was my life, and this woman was on hand to help me out when I got stuck. I spent enough time in her home, that I would become proficient enough at crochet to make blankets, scarfs and hats. And so, from time to time, over the years, I did as much. That very first blanket I made went to one of my nieces when they were born. Or at least I hope it did. And thus spawned the poster child for the expression, "when life gives you lemons, make lemonade."

I didn't start to knit really until my adulthood. Shortly after I got married, I went into a yarn store that had recently opened in my neighborhood to ask a question about a crochet project. The store's owner happen to ask me if I knew how to knit. I responded that I did. At least somewhat. She handed me a skein of yarn, a pair of knitting needles, and asked me to demonstrate how I do it. Using the backward loop cast-on, I proceeded with my pathetic attempt. After completing a row with the finesse of a gorilla in pointe shoes, she said she could show me a better way. It was at this time time I would learn the long tail cast-on, and how to knit continental. What I demonstrated was the English method, which produces the same result, and how I figure most knitters knit. I on the other hand fell madly in love with continental knitting, and went home that night to feverishly practice my new found skill. With that, my second completed knitting project, a basket weave stitch scarf would go to my very worthy husband. But the mystery of how I learned to make my very first scarf, and do what I did during my feeble presentation to the woman at the yarn store remains as elusive as was a passing grade in math. Perhaps it will come to me during an EMDR session. I still crochet and very often use this skill to embellish my knits. I consider myself lucky to know how to do both crafts.

 

The beauty of such crafts is the flexibility it provides. You can take it with you, and you can do it pretty much anywhere. There are a whole host of different techniques to learn and perfect, so while it can be repetitive, it is never boring. For me it provides a great escape during those times when I am insanity's hostage. There is nothing like having a project handy to help endure your family's madness. Something to think about the next time you find yourself with your insufferable in laws for the holidays.