Learning How to Purl

Knitting comes easy to some.  To others, they need a high dose of tenacity or the needles get thrown into the corner for all eternity.

I do not remember learning to knit, crochet, or sew.  I know for certain that it was my Gram who taught me all of these things when I was young.

Gram was a lady of many crafts.  She kept her sewing machine under the window at the end of her galley kitchen.  She would throw a few pieces of leftover fabric together and let me brother and me stitch it like crazy.  More often than not, in our youthful zeal to create yet another potholder, one of us would break the needle.  Okay, usually it was me.  And I still have this problem with my own machine today.

While I cannot recall my first knitting lesson I do have a firm picture in my mind of Gram fixing a pair of plastic needles.  To make them shorter and easier for my small arms, she popped the metal cap off and broke a few inches off.  She heated the broken end in the flame of her kitchen stove and jammed it back into the cap.

I was fascinated by what she did.  I was thrilled and amazed that she did that for me.  What a show of love.

I really didn't stick with the knitting.  There was just so much to do as a kid.  I as I got older I tried my hand at other crafts.  I crocheted.  I did cross stitch.  I quilted.  I even tried tatting with a shuttle.

In my late teens I decided to knit something and wanted to do more than just garter stitch.  I suddenly realized that I had forgotten how to purl!

Fortunately, it was Mom's bowling night.  Her team would pick her up.  Gram was on the team.  So when the car filled with bowling ladies pulled out, I ran out of the house, needles and yarn in hand and said:

"Gram, I forgot how to purl!"

I would like to say that roadside lesson stuck with me and I never forgot how to purl again.

But alas, I put down my needles and forgot.  Again.

When I decided to take up knitting again Gram was gone.

I had, and still have, several reference books on crafts.  I used them to learn how to purl all over again.  And this time, I kept knitting.

I purchased my first wooden needles.  A lovely pair of size 10 in rosewood fueled my new addiction.  I discovered novelty yarns and knitted a ton of scarves and boas.

I branched out and knitted hats and purses.

My first toe up socks.
Pattern:  Terpander designed by Melissa Morgan-Oakes
Published in Ann Budd's Sock Knitting Master Class

That made me want to try knitting in the round, something like socks.  So I bought a set of bamboo DPNs and knitted my first socks.


I have since graduated to 9" circular needles and save the DPNs for the toes.

I miss Gram and wonder if she realized how much of what she taught me (even the stuff I forget) has brought me so much joy.  I'm sure if she were still here she would proudly wear the socks I make.

Thank you, Gram.

After the Knitting is Done

The part of the knitting process that I do not like is that moment when I finish a project and realize that I have no idea of what to do next.  There is no UFO (unfinished object) lying around waiting for me to do something, no plans of what to knit next.  At that moment, I feel lost.

This is where I found myself recently.

I felt lost when I finished knitting a cardigan.  I was proud that it had appropriate length arms (see my post Make a Gauge Swatch!)

The pattern I used was the Woman's Cardigan under the Family Cables section in Deborah Newton's Cable Collection.  

I used some ribbing to replace the strips.

While the pattern called for two colors, I decided on one color.

The only place this made a different was in the cuff.  The cuff in the pattern is striped and in stockinette stitch.  In one color, it would make a very boring cuff I thought.  So I added a rib to give it a little excitement.

Actually, it was more of knit one row, purl one row, knit three rows, purl one row.

This is the front of the cardigan.  No buttons yet!

For me, I find the cardigan to be on the short side.   Maybe it's my age, but I prefer some length, something the hits me closer to my hips than my waist.  Which is where this one hits me.

This might be suitable for my teenage niece.  Then again, it might not be cool enough for the modern teenager.

Anyway, I was lost and wondering what to do next.  

I toyed briefly with the idea of creating my own stitch dictionary.  Then I realized that I have access to many fine ones in my own collection and at the public library.

So I returned to a cast on technique that has gotten the better of me.  This time, though, was different.  Success!  I may have mastered Judy's Magic Cast On.

Yes, I say may.  I am hoping that I have conquered it enough to attempt my first pair of toe up socks.

Wish me luck!