The Early Years

After I pestered my mother to teach me how to knit, she gave me my own needles and yarn when I was ten. The first few lessons were frustrating for both of us. I just couldn’t “get it.” With determination from me and a great deal of patience from my mother, and after a multitude of lost stitches and uneven rows, my work began to take shape. I was a knitter.

By the time I started middle school, knitting had become easier and almost second nature. I took knitting needles and yarn to babysitting jobs. After the children were asleep, I settled down to do some knits and purls (basic stitches) and yarn-over’s and slip stitches for more advanced work.

With college came a hiatus from knitting. Studies, activities and a couple of jobs left little time for a hobby. But I missed knitting, so much so that I resurrected this passion during the fall of my junior year. My goal was to knit a cardigan sweater in two colors for my teacher, my mom. It would be a Christmas gift.

The gift of insight

For weeks, and until the wee hours of the morning, I worked on this sweater, which had a complicated design. If a mistake was made, I ripped out stitches to correct it. I purchased costly pewter buttons to complement the expensive yarn used for this creation. I wanted this sweater to be perfect.

When Christmas morning arrived, I was filled with excitement. I was about to give my mother a beautiful expression of my love. She, too, would love the sweater. This I knew. With great joy, I handed my mother her gift. Slowly the wrapping paper came off; the box was opened; the tissue paper parted. Mom lifted the sweater out of the box.

“This is nice,” she said in a voice that lacked excitement.

“This is nice!” “THIS IS NICE!” Is that all she could say? Surely she, a knitter, knew how much work went into this gift. I was so hurt; I was devastated. My Christmas was destroyed by three words.

The words “this is nice” kept playing over and over in my mind for the rest of the day. I took these words to bed with me.

Just before I fell asleep, I had an awakening and realized that I shouldn’t expect others to react the way I would. My mother wasn’t me. She reacted in her own way. This isn’t wrong. This is just the way it is. I also decided that I wouldn’t allow my mother’s reaction to erase the joy I had felt while knitting the sweater. Creating this gift had given me a wonderful sense of accomplishment. This, in itself, was worth all the effort.

Two little words

The following Christmas my knitting skills were shifted to a man I had been dating for two years. A skier, he was worthy of a special gift and he would, I knew, appreciate a hand-knitted sweater. Like the previous year, all my free time was devoted to this sweater, which had an intricate Norwegian design. All the hard work was worth it. The sweater turned out to be truly beautiful, a masterpiece in the field of needlework.

My boyfriend did appreciate my gift. “This is beautiful, really beautiful,” he said as he put on the sweater. It fit perfectly and looked great on him. This was a wonderful moment for a knitter.

Almost immediately, however, this skier in the handsome sweater seemed uneasy. He lowered his head and said he had something to tell me. “I’m engaged,” he said. “ENGAGED?” I questioned. He explained that I wasn’t the only person he had been dating and that he fell in love with my competition. Within minutes, he was up and out the door wearing the beautiful sweater. He made no attempt to return the sweater. I was in such shock that I didn’t ask for it back.

It took a few weeks before I realized that in this relationship, as well as in past dating situations, I saw only what I wanted to see. Although we dated usually only one night a week, I was sure that I was the one and only special person in his life. I knew he liked me, but I also assumed that he was in love with
me even though he had never said “the word.”

Never assume. That’s the lesson I learned with this sweater… and, darn; it was such a beautiful sweater!

The unraveling

I decided then and there that my days of knitting gifts were over. This decision was strengthened when my mother told me—after I asked—that the sweater I made her wasn’t her style, but she loved the yarn. She added that she had taken the sweater apart and used the yarn for something else. I don’t remember ever being so hurt.

Because of the two knitted sweater fiascos, I decided that I would only make things for myself. Then I would never be disappointed.

The end of prohibition

My prohibition of knitting for others lasted until I got married. I knitted my new husband a tennis sweater. He doesn’t wear it often, but he loves it…at least this is what he says. When the kids arrived, they, too, were, and still are, treated to mother-made knitted gifts. They, too, profess appreciation.

Now my family isn’t the only benefactor of my knitting skills. I have been overtaken by the popularity of scarves and have knitted almost 50 of these neck warmers for friends and for the homeless. I am on a mission to “scarf the world” instead of “scarfing down food.” Knitting is my way of refraining from nighttime snacking. (It works!) Another benefit, knitting is relaxing and reduces stress!

Luckily, I have learned the hard way that I don’t need raves for my work, be it knitting or some other activity. My own satisfaction is enough. I’ve also forgiven my mother, who passed away six years ago, for unraveling the sweater that I had made for her. I am thankful to her for teaching me how to knit and all the other things I learned from and because of her. It was knitting, indirectly, that led me to learn forgiveness…and learning how to forgive is one of the best life lessons.

The Fringe-As-You-Go Scarf

This fast-and-easy scarf can be made inexpensively from skeins of acrylic yarns found in many discount retail stores. Using one yarn in a solid color and another in variegated colors makes an attractive fashion accessory.

This is a one-step project with the fringe added at the beginning and at the end of each row. This also helps to keep the yarns from becoming twisted.

Materials

• 180 yards of 100 percent acrylic knitting worsted-Color A
• 180 yards of 100 percent acrylic knitting worsted-Color B
• Size 13, 36-inch circular knitting needles
• Size 14 or 15 needles, any length, to use to bind off

Using both colors together, make a loop, leaving a 4-inch tail—or whatever length of fringe desired—and cast on 160 stitches using size 13 needles. After last stitch is cast on, measure 4 inches and cut yarns. These 4-inch tails at each end form the scarf’s fringe.

Leaving a 4-inch tail, tie yarns onto the top of the previous row’s tail and knit across. At the end, leave 4 inches and cut yarns. Repeat from 19 times (4-in.wide scarf) or 29 times (6-in.wide scarf). Tie on yarns leaving a 4-inch tail. Bind off stitches using the larger size needles. (The larger needles will keep the scarf flat.) After last stitch is bound off, measure 4 inches and cut yarns. Tie this tail to the top of tail from the previous row.