"The Friday Night Knitting Club" ~ a novel by Kate Jacobs
A friend loaned me her copy of this book quite some time ago and as a beginner knitter I thought it may be an interesting read. I'm all about the great escape (from grief work) a good novel can bring. I give it 3 stars (out of 5 being OMGosh - stayed up all night!) It was kind-of-sorta-an-ok read and here are a few of the authors words that I did enjoy from the book. Who knew knitting techniques could be woven into the fabric of life?
"casting on"
The only way to get going is to just grasp that yarn between your fingers and twist. Just start. It's the same with life. Of course, every beginning won't be the same: There are dozens of ways to cast on and they vary based on skill or design or even just relying on the tried and true. My point? Sometimes what works for one piece isn't the right way next time. You have to experiment to see what works. But there's a similarity no matter the method: you either try or you don't. So form a slipknot; make a series of twisted loops on one needle and then use its partner to reach through and make a stitch. Casting on is as much leap of faith as technique.
"doing the gauge"
Just as you have to take baby steps before you walk, you can't get going with your garment until you make a practice piece. So try out a few stitches and measure your handiwork against the pattern. Take the measure of yourself against the expectation. (Otherwise what you make just won't fit!) And then you make adjustments. Too tight? Try bigger needles. You might have to adjust again or make another gauge before you're done - your stitching may change as you become more experienced. The mystery is that two people using needles of the same size and type can make stitches of varying size and tension. The magic is that, even thought they have differences, they can both create something equally wondrous.
"ripping out"
All you have to do is forgive.
"starting again"
Every knitter has a sweater left unfinished; the bags of bits and pieces stashed away and never picked up again. And why? A change in fashion? A change in season? If that was so, you'd just pull out the stitches and use the yarn for something new. No, there's a secret hope that makes you hold on, to dream that you'll get it right someday, that you'll go back and take it up again and it will finally come out right. That this time all the pieces will fit. The mistake is waiting until you feel renewed enough to give it another try. You simply have to pick up the needles and keep at it anyway.
"binding off"
You can't keep your garment on needles forever; eventually it's going to have to exist on its own, supporting itself. The trick is looping the stitches across each other so they can be pulled away from the needle without coming all apart.
"sewing it all together"
It's always easier to knit a sweater in sections: the front, the back, the sleeves. The benefit is that if one section is frustrating you, it can be put aside and you can move on to something else until you're ready to finish. That's not the same as giving up: that's being smart. Just work at it little by little until each and every part is ready, and then you'll be able to match it up. Stitch together with a large-eyed needle and thin thread of yarn of matching color, sewing through every second stitch. (Remember: if one side appears longer than the other, then stitch just every other stitch and fudge it. Wool is very pliable and you can make all the pieces sew together quite easily. Trust me.) And it's never a mistake to block your piece, to lay it on a board and let the wrinkles steam out so that it has a smooth, finished look. Sometimes you just want to gaze on things awhile, to keep them fresh and perfect as long as you can.
"wearing what you've made"
This can be the most fun: to show off some funky scarf that reveals your inner cool. And other times it's just so hard to wear something that seems less than perfect or didn't turn out the way you wanted it to. But just put it on anyway; celebrate your hard work and your talent. And your love. Every knitter stitches with love, even when they're just starting, all red-faced and frustrated. Why else would we create? Especially in a world that doesn't need homemade anything. That's when we need homemade everything. It never matters if things don't end up just the way you planned. Every moment is a work in progress; every stitch is one stitch closer. There may be worse, but there is always better. When you wear something you've made with your own hands, you surround yourself with love, and all the love that came before you. The real achievement, you see, is being proud of what you've made. I know that I am.
The End.
My daughter that passed away loved new, cushy, comfy, soft, white socks. She
and I have never worn a pair of handmade knit socks and from what sock
knitters tell me...you will never want to wear store purchased socks on your
precious feet once you have worn a pair of handmade knit socks. I need
to get serious about learning to knit socks! Of course it sounds like a
good
addiction, er... escape, to add to my life. I started a
sock class back in February at a local knitting store and I need to shake off all these distractions
and go finish that class ~ "For the ♥ of Ashley!"
