At Knit's End Read online

  Sometimes this is a long process. I will remember that if I choose to make things difficult for myself I can’t complain.

  The man who goes farthest is generally

  the one who is willing to do and dare.

  The sure-thing boat never gets far from shore.

  — DALE CARNEGIE

  The “sure thing” in knitting is a myth. There is no way, none — even if you have knit a thousand things, a million yards, or a billion socks — that your knitting will not find a way to punish you if you dare to get cocky.

  Saying out loud things such as “I know this yarn so well, I don’t need to do a swatch” or “I never use a pattern” invites disaster. Even if your gauge is perfect or you remember the pattern with total recall, cockiness will not be tolerated by the celestial powers that rule knitting.

  If I am foolish enough to be arrogant about my knitting, I will understand when it spontaneously bursts into flames.

  Truly, to tell lies is not honorable;

  But when the truth entails tremendous ruin,

  To speak dishonorably is pardonable.

  — SOPHOCLES

  There is always something redeeming about a knitted piece. Perhaps it is not the color, or pattern, or form … but there must be something. Nothing knitted can be truly horrible. When I am asked my opinion of a piece of knitting that I truly regard as ugly, I do not lie; I find the truths that I can tell without hurting the feelings of the knitter. My favorite is, “Wow, that looks like a lot of work!” Or, “My goodness, that’s such a personal work of art.”

  There is no such thing as worthless knitting, simply knitting that is really not to your taste.

  Do not worry about your difficulties

  in mathematics. I can assure you

  mine are still greater.

  — ALBERT EINSTEIN

  I failed 10th grade math four times. I hate mathematics so much that the very thought of a return to it in any form is enough to make me want to run away to Belize, screaming all the way. It is a deeply bitter truth that knitting has math in it. Division to place increases, addition to enlarge, subtraction to shrink, even some multiplication to work out how many times a Fair Isle motif will fit across a row. If you want to be a knitter, there is going to be some math. It is incredible to me that the very same computations that made me want to claw my eyes out in math class are completely worthwhile in knitting.

  Why couldn’t they have used knitting to teach me math in 10th grade?

  Marriage is a wonderful institution,

  but who would want to live

  in an institution?

  — H. L. MENCKEN

  The best reason for a knitter to marry is that you can’t teach the cat to be impressed when you finish a lace scarf.

  Even if he doesn’t know a cable from a bobble, my mate can be my biggest cheerleader.

  Stress is an ignorant state. It believes

  that everything is an emergency.

  Nothing is that important.

  — NATALIE GOLDBERG

  3 ways to tell that knitting deadlines are getting to you:

  You are knitting the gift for the birthday girl on the way to the party.

  You have decided that replacing sleep with knitting just makes sense.

  You have calculated the number of stitches remaining in the project and think that it’s “pretty normal” that you are counting down.

  What difference does it make how much

  you have? What you do not have

  amounts to much more.

  — SENECA

  The world is full of knitters who are driven to collect yarn by an inner voice that tells them there will never be enough. They have more yarn than they could ever use in a lifetime, even if they quit their jobs and knit full-time until they died. The world is full of nonknitters who think this is odd.

  I will remember, when challenged by a nonknitter who has concerns about my yarn stash, that no one ever said, “Hey, Michelangelo, don’t you think you’re getting carried away with this paint thing?”

  Marriage has no guarantees.

  If that’s what you’re looking for,

  go live with a car battery.

  — ERMA BOMBECK

  For years my husband showed no interest in my knitting. In fact, the overwhelming presence of yarn seemed to bug him. Then I began knitting him dress socks.

  If your mate doesn’t understand your knitting habit, then maybe he hasn’t been properly bribed yet.

  We cannot command Nature

  except by obeying her.

  — FRANCIS BACON

  So the rumors were true; there it was, sitting innocently on the shelf. Yarn made from corn. Called “Ingeo,” the yarn is made from the starches and sugars of corn and converted to a natural resin that is spun into yarn. The resulting fiber is biodegradable and can be composted to return the nutrients to the soil. It is soft, lovely, and a completely renewable resource.

  Although I embrace fiber technologies that protect the Earth, I will remember that wearing an Ingeo tank top to a goat farm might have disastrous results.

  One of the greatest discoveries a man makes,

  one of his great surprises, is to find he can

  do what he was afraid he couldn’t do.

  — HENRY FORD

  I was surprised to discover that there are timid knitters — knitters who are afraid to do lace, afraid to do cables, afraid of making a mistake or taking on a big project. I was shocked. Afraid? Be afraid of skydiving. Be afraid of wild boar. Be fearless with knitting.

  I will remember that no one has ever been killed or maimed by being adventurous with knitting, no matter how pointy the needles.

  Progress might have been all right once,

  but it has gone on too long.

  — OGDEN NASH

  If you hunt around, you will find yarns made of some pretty strange stuff. The one that boggles my mind most is the superfine yarn made from stainless steel. Combined with other fibers, such as wool, cotton, and linen, it’s more approachable than you would think.

  As much as I will try to accept progress and things such as stainless-steel yarn, I still find it remarkable that after I knit a sweater I could whip into the kitchen and shine my pots with it.

  You know you

  knit too much when …

  You put your computer

  keyboard on the floor while

  reading your daily e-mails

  so you can hit the spacebar

  with your toe to scroll

  through them while knitting.

  To win without risk is to triumph

  without glory.

  — PIERRE CORNEILLE

  Faced with a major knitting mistake, such as a miscrossed cable, I have three basic choices. I could ignore it; pull the work back and re-knit it; or go wild, drop the offending stitches, and painstakingly spend hours with a crochet hook tediously fixing just those few. Knitting is not necessarily the most daring of hobbies, certainly not compared to eating fire or something like that, but those of us who need thrills in our lives and have a bit of a competitive edge embrace these chances to really go out on a limb.

  It’s not necessarily the smart thing to do, but there’s really nothing like conceiving and executing an insane feat of repair and having it work.

  People want economy and they will pay

  any price to get it.

  — LEE IACOCCA

  When I took up spinning, my husband worried that it was just going to devolve into another addiction. To make him feel a little better I pointed out how much money I was going to save spinning my own yarn. Then I bought a spinning wheel, carders, fleece, and dye.

  I will remember that timing is everything, and I might have wanted to make my point sometime after I had spent all that money getting set up and spinning a $500 skein of lumpy yarn.

  Modesty is a vastly overrated virtue.

  — JOHN KENNETH GALBRAITH

  The knitting magazine had a very beautiful s
weater, creatively worked with an openwork mesh stitch. I wanted it badly and planned to make it, until I had a rare flash of insight and realized that a woman who manages to find her bra only for “special occasions” might not really be all that suited to a mesh sweater.

  Knitter, know thyself.

  It sometimes happens, even in the best

  of families, that a baby is born.

  This is not necessarily cause for alarm.

  The important thing is to keep your wits

  about you and borrow some money.

  — ELINOR GOULDING SMITH

  When knitting for babies, remember that they have surprisingly large heads. For neckholes in sweaters, I suggest that you follow this rule. First, make the neckline twice the size that seems reasonable to you. Then add a slit and buttons … then prepare to be disappointed that the baby grew since you last checked the size.

  I will remember that it is the cautious, and quick, knitter who makes stuff for babies.

  Honest criticism is hard to take,

  particularly from a relative, a friend,

  an acquaintance, or a stranger.

  — FRANKLIN P. JONES

  There is one knitter in my guild who is a wonder. Her work is always incredible, her stitches even, her sense of color perfection. She gives workshops and people line up to get in, anxious to elevate their knitting to her level. At one workshop she was explaining that we should all strive for absolutely even stitches. Your work, properly done, should look like it was machine knit. The knitter next to me heaved a sigh and quietly muttered, “Honestly, why wouldn’t I just get a knitting machine?”

  Knitting is a human activity. It’s okay if it looks like a human did it.

  You cannot truly listen to anyone and do

  anything else at the same time.

  — M. SCOTT PECK

  People who knit have long been trying to convince people who don’t that they can knit and listen at the same time. Studies have shown that people often show increased focus and even demonstrate greater recollection while knitting.

  Conversely, with some people, knitting is the only thing that gets us through listening to them.

  Habit, if not resisted, soon becomes necessity.

  — ST. AUGUSTINE

  There is a longstanding joke in our family about what it would take to keep me from knitting. I have knit through illness, disaster, injury, and labor.

  When I was expecting my first baby, I asked my midwife when I should call her to come. “When you don’t want to knit anymore,” she replied.

  My husband thought that would be cutting it pretty close.

  In retrospect, I think the midwife should have said, “When you can’t keep track of the pattern.”

  If a dog jumps in your lap, it is because

  he is fond of you; but if a cat does the same

  thing, it is because your lap is warmer.

  — ALFRED NORTH

  Although there are few pictures prettier than that of a knitter working happily in his favorite chair, devoted cat by his side, knitters know the truth. The chance that your pet will stay by your side and off your knitting is relative to the pet/project relationship. If you are knitting a brown sweater and own a brown cat, your devoted companion will stand by, but never “on,” your knitting. If, however, you own a black cat and are knitting a white shawl, your cat and the project will be inseparable.

  I will try to understand that if I don’t bother to coordinate my projects with my pet, my pet will be driven to do it for me.

  Give no decision till both sides thou’st heard.

  — PHOCYLIDES

  Knitting needles come in different materials. Wood, ebony, metal, plastic … there are many different kinds, and I’m told they all have their uses. I love sharp metal ones, and no one can tell me that there is a point (pun intended) to any other kind. I feel that the slipperiness makes me a faster knitter, and unlike the more fragile wooden ones, I’ve never broken a metal needle by sitting on it. On the downside, that particular mishap with metal needles can require a tetanus shot.

  I will try other knitting needles, particularly if one type consistently sends me to the emergency room.

  You don’t get harmony when everybody

  sings the same note.

  — DOUG FLOYD

  As long as there has been knitting there have been battles about it. There are self-declared “yarn snobs,” who frown on using anything but natural fibers; “gauge snobs,” who wouldn’t be caught dead with chunky yarn; and “experience snobs,” who claim you can’t declare yourself a real knitter until you abandon novelty yarns. The truth is that the knitting world is a tiny metaphor for the real world. It takes all kinds.

  I will not allow myself to feel bad if someone disapproves of my knitting. I will also resist the urge to stuff his mailbox full of chunky acrylic fun fur at 3:00 a.m.

  5 things to keep in your knitting bag:

  A crochet hook for picking up dropped stitches

  A yarn needle

  A measuring tape

  A photocopy of your pattern

  A fair bit of chocolate or hard liquor, depending on the project

  I will recognize that being prepared will make me a better knitter.

  One of the few pieces of Newfoundland

  knitting in a museum is a pair of

  long underwear dated 1900 and

  collected by Dorothy Burnham for the

  Canadian Museum of Civilization.

  They were knit of homespun wool in

  an outport [a remote fishing village].

  — GLORIA HICKEY

  Can you imagine the whole knitted long underwear thing? In many (cold) parts of the world, knitted long johns were commonplace, and necessary. Whole pants and shirts were knitted of wool so fine that the garments didn’t bunch up under your clothes. I don’t know whom I feel sorriest for: the knitter who had miles of underwear to knit, the poor soul responsible for hand washing it all, or the desperate victim who had to wear the itchy homespun next to his most delicate parts.

  You know you

  knit too much when …

  You think that a stitch or

  row counter you could work

  with your feet is a really

  brilliant idea.

  God gave us our memories so that

  we might have roses in December.

  — J. M. BARRIE

  Some of my stash is silly little balls of yarn that nonknitters (and some knitters) think I’m out of my mind to keep. Here’s what they don’t know: The white is the yarn I used to knit the baby blanket I wrapped my first baby in. The blue is from the sweater my husband wore on the boat on our anniversary. The purple is from socks my second daughter wore the first day of school. The pink is from the scarf my youngest learned to knit on. They are soft yards of wool, each one a postcard from the life I had while knitting.

  People may laugh at me, but I will remember that some of them collect rocks.

  It is essential to use X brand yarn

  to achieve these results.

  — EVERY PATTERN PUT OUT BY A YARN COMPANY

  I was in a crowded and bustling yarn shop when I overheard a young and attractive woman utter this sentence out loud.

  “It’s too bad that you can’t substitute yarns in a pattern; none of these colors really appeals to me.”

  The silence that descended upon the yarn shop was complete. Heads swivelled around to get a look at her. Knitter after knitter stared incomprehensibly at her. Moments later, as we all recovered, the woman was virtually crushed as we rushed to her side to enlighten her.

  I will remember that substituting yarns is not only possible, but, at times, virtually demanded.

  Inanimate objects are classified scientifically

  into three major categories — those that

  don’t work, those that break down

  and those that get lost.

  — RUSSELL BAKER

  Every knitter knows that yarn needl
es disappear at a rate competitive with socks. I’ve bought hundreds, lost them all over my house, and have never, ever found one. They are simply gone.

  I know that I can’t be alone with this problem because often, when I go to buy more from the yarn shop, they are sold out.

  I imagine that in five hundred years, when the archeologists of the future are sifting through the rubble of my home, they will find millions of them.

  I will resist the urge to laugh myself silly at the idea that they will think the sheer quantity of these little metal sticks must mean that they hold a special significance.

  Envy can be a positive motivator.

  Let it inspire you to work harder

  for what you want.

  — ROBERT BRINGLE

  Browsing a knitting magazine at the library, I read of a knitter who had managed to procure some lace-weight cashmere. She wrote so compellingly about its legendary softness, its luminous color, and the pleasure she had working with it. She told of the heart-achingly beautiful wimple that she had knit from it, and how it was the envy of all the other knitters she knew, that it was simply the most beautiful wimple ever.

  I will realize that before I whip out the credit card and order myself a kit to make a cashmere wimple that I might want to take a minute and try to find out what the heck a wimple is.

  Real success is finding your lifework

  in the work that you love.

  — DAVID MCCULLOUGH

  Most knitters can’t imagine anything better than spending their days curled up knitting, shopping for wool, and getting paid for it.

  I will resist the urge to approach knitters in shops and ask them whether I can be their personal shopper, just so that I can spend somebody else’s money on wool.

  Frogging:

  the act of taking the knitting off the needles and pulling the working yarn to undo the stitches. This is done to unravel knitting completely or to pull the work out to a point before an error, when the knitting is replaced on needles. It is called “frogging” because you “rip-it, rip-it.”

  It is important for knitters to know two things about frogging: that cats are capable of this knitting action, and even seem to enjoy it and seek opportunities to do it; and that foul language is a normal, healthy accompaniment to frogging, whether it is you or the cat that accomplished the task.

  I will allow myself the full expression of human frustration should I have to frog anything.