I mentioned in a prior post that I picked up my knitting needles. Again. But I think--I think--that this time it finally clicked. Actually, scratch that. You know how sometimes you dare not say things out loud for fear of jinxing it? It's like that.
My grandmother, on my father's side, was of German descent. And she taught me the basics of knitting when I was a child. I was ten or so, I'd guess. She taught me in the Continental style because that's what she did. Sitting beside her, I managed to knit some dish cloths and pot holders. Even a wallet, though my stitches were so loose and uneven that the coins fell right out--talk about a bummer, not to mention a lesson in irony.
After I learned to knit, I'm pretty sure I liked the process well enough. And my grandmother was certainly an inspiration, turning out beautiful items. But still, I remember not really loving some of the end products, and I'm not just talking about kid-mangled worthless wallets. No. My grandmother, being a grandmother and all, was a prolific knitter. And to keep things economical, she tended to knit with acrylic. So although I believe I always respected the effort that she put into knitted garments, I didn't exactly treasure them. I thought the acrylic felt funny. I know that sounds harsh but I swear I had things that squeaked (acrylic yarn has come a long way).
I forgot about knitting for a long time, then tried again--for about five minutes--in law school. I devoted another minute during my last pregnancy. Both attempts were disasters and I put away my knitting needles once again. But I wasn't giving up for good. I knew I'd try again. I like to think it's part of me, somewhere.
Flash forward to the present. It's getting consistently cold here. And last week, as I reached for the stash of winter garb, I was struck by what I have on hand. Mittens and hats and scarves--all machine knitted, all mass produced, all so very blah. What I wouldn't give for one of my grandmother's lovingly knitted items now, acrylic or not. So I decided to try. Again.
This time, I turned to some books for help. And I decided to try the English method, since the author of the book I'm using says it's her favorite. The book is Stitch 'n Bitch, and I, like so many others before me, sing its praises.
I find that when I knit in the English style, I control my tension a bit better. I also believe it's easier to follow along with written materials and online knitting tutorials, as most seem to show the English method. I'm not saying that I'll never go back to Continental. I do think it's faster. But I'm very happy that I now know how to do both styles. Because I feel like learning both really helped me to finally understand how a stitch is constructed. And yes, I'm a craft nerd but this time it's coming in especially handy as learning how a stitch should look--how it should sit on a needle--means I can now fix a mistake without resorting to ripping out rows and rows of work. Can I get an amen? Because I'm pretty sure that the very thing that killed me the most during prior attempts was the inevitable (and frustrating and curse-inducing) cycle of knit, rip, repeat.
I practiced a few nights this week. Nothing fancy, just knit and purl in different combos using yarn I already had. I'm just trying to achieve the right tension and find my groove. I'm excited by how it's feeling and have to resist diving into a project that is too complicated. Rationally, I know that the last thing I need is to get in over my head. So I just need to stay off of The Purl Bee and Ravelry.
Over the weekend, I hope to continue knitting and maybe even visit a local yarn shop or two--just to look!
