At Knit's End (12 page)

M
y sweater is against me. I have no real proof, of course, because sweaters are tricky, but it is the only possibility. I know people will think that a sweater plagued with mistakes and disaster is my fault … but I am a competent knitter who has a closet full of sweaters that went just fine. Clearly, I am not to blame for the dropped stitches, the funny gauge, and the cable that went the wrong way.

I will remember, when a project is not going my way, that everything on the planet has its own destiny. From time to time, I need to accept that my project and I are not on the same “life path.”

 

I'm living so far beyond my income
that we may almost be said
to be living apart.

—
E. E. CUMMINGS

O
ne strategy for controlling your spending at the yarn shop is to decide how much money you will spend before you leave your house. Take that amount of cash and leave your credit cards at home. Temptation will be everywhere when you are at the yarn shop, and your self-control will be tested. This simple technique can reduce impulse shopping and help you stay focused.

When I run out of cash, I will simply take my yarn and go home, instead of trying to sell my shoes and coat on the street in front of the yarn shop to raise more funds.

 

Knitting still remains my most stimulating
yet relaxing activity and I thank the powers
that be that I can make a living at it …
I always pack my knitting or needlepoint
project first when traveling.

— K
AFFE
F
ASSETT

F
or most knitters, traveling means scoring some really good knitting time, but what project to take? Travel knitting must be small, but not so small that you would finish it quickly and need a new project. Simple enough to amuse you, but not so simple that you will be bored. The yarn should be lightweight so that you can carry all you will need. It must suit the climate; you don't want to take a wool sweater to the beach or a sunhat to the Arctic … and finally, it must be washable so you can get your spilled margarita off it.

I will remember that it's normal for it to take longer to pack my knitting than my clothes.

 

Just because something doesn't do
what you planned it to
do doesn't mean it's useless.

— T
HOMAS
A. E
DISON

U
naware that I was headed for likely disaster, I knit my friend a pair of slippers that needed to be felted. I used leftovers in my stash and knit the tops out of red yarn from one company and black yarn of a different brand. When I took them out of the washer I was stunned. The red wool had shrunk at a completely different rate than the black. The slippers were round and flat, and they bore no resemblance to the foot of any mammal on Earth.

Remember to think inventively. I may not have made slippers, but I did have wool Frisbees, or some really interesting hot pads.

 

Really, all you need to become
a good knitter are wool, needles, hands,
and slightly below-average intelligence.
Of course, superior intelligence, such as
yours and mine, is an advantage.

— E
LIZABETH
Z
IMMERMAN

T
here is nothing like working out a piece of knitting to make you feel intelligent. Of course, there's nothing quite like getting your superior intelligence kicked by a piece of yarn and two needles to let the air right out of that self-confidence.

I will remember to be humble, even when I am knitting cleverly. Things change.

 

He who works with his hands is a laborer,
he who works with his hands and his head
is a craftsman, he who works with his hands,
his head and his heart is an artist.

— F
RANCIS OF
A
SSISI

M
y definitions:

Craft Knitting — knitting a sweater from someone else's pattern but making changes in the yarn and style to suit your taste.

Art Knitting — knitting a sweater from any pattern, but altering the pattern, stitch, or colorway to make it completely your own.

Labor Knitting — knitting a sweater with a 50-inch chest.

I will not allow anyone else (including this book) to tell me when I am making art.

 

Problems worthy of attack prove their
worth by fighting back.

— P
AUL
E
RDOS

S
ome knitters use a “lifeline” when knitting complex patterns. They thread a strand of waste yarn through a row of stitches that they know is correct, and then continue on. This maneuver is repeated at regular intervals. If a mistake is discovered, the work can be ripped back to the lifeline, and the stitches held by it picked up and the work resumed.

Then there are those of us who laugh in the face of danger and call these knitters “chicken.”

Should I choose to enjoy “daredevil” knitting and scorn a lifeline, I will gracefully accept the consequences, or at least give up mocking more cautious knitters when the decision comes back to haunt me.

 

There is no right way to knit; there is
no wrong way to knit. So if anybody kindly
tells you that what you are doing is “wrong,”
don't take umbrage; they mean well.
Smile submissively, and listen, keeping your
disagreement on an entirely mental level.

— E
LIZABETH
Z
IMMERMAN

I
f you knit long enough, you will discover that no matter what your style or expertise is, there is another “expert” who is convinced you are doing it wrong. She will believe this despite the fact that you are both producing beautiful knitting.

I will remember that individuality is a good thing, in life and in knitting.

 

One cannot collect all the beautiful shells
on the beach. One can collect only a few,
and they are more beautiful if they are few.

— A
NNE
M
ORROW
L
INDBERGH

T
his is one theory of yarn buying. We must not overburden ourselves with greed and want, but instead gather only a few … just those perfect balls of yarn that are special to us. Limiting the amount of yarn that we stash makes us treasure those few balls even more, and it ensures that we actually fulfill the destiny of those meager skeins.

This works fine if you think “a few” should be followed by the word “hundred.”

 

If everything seems to be going well,
you have obviously overlooked something.

— S
TEVEN
W
RIGHT

E
xcellent, I have just carefully worked the armhole decreases on the front of the sweater. I'm feeling pretty good about myself. It was tricky; I had to really work to incorporate the cables into the decreases, but I persevered and I'm ready for the next instruction. I look at the pattern and my heart sinks as I read “at the same time” followed by the directions for the neck shaping that I was to have done.

It is not a waste of time to read ahead in the pattern; most sweaters need necks.

 

Failing to plan is planning to fail.

— A
LAN
L
AKEIN

I
f you are using a pattern with multiple sizes it is a good idea to circle, highlight, or otherwise mark the instructions for the size you are knitting. There is very little comfort for the knitter who has knit a sweater with a size small front and a size large back.

You are excused from this rule if you know a small-chested hunchback you could give the sweater to.

 

The cure for boredom is curiosity.
There is no cure for curiosity.

— E
LLEN
P
ARR

3
ways to liven up a yarn shop:

• Loudly, and in a clear voice, say, “Circular needles are so stupid.”

• Wait until the shop is crowded, then tell one person that today is the day that everything is 50 percent off.

• Yell “MOTH!”

Not that you could be bored in a yarn shop, but just in case.

 

Do not trust your memory;
it is a net full of holes; the most
beautiful prizes slip through it.

— G
EORGES
D
UHAMEL

A
few years ago, when I ran out of space for yarn, I started tucking it away, a ball here and there. A skein of silk in the gravy boat, some tweed down the sleeves of an unused coat, a whole sweater's worth in the canning pot I rarely used. I feel clever, and now I have room for way more.

I'm looking forward to getting older. As my memory fails me, I will get the pleasure of finding it all again.

 

Planning is an unnatural process;
it is much more fun to do something.
The nicest thing about not planning is
that failure comes as a complete surprise,
rather than being preceded by a period
of worry and depression.

— S
IR
J
OHN
H
ARVEY
-J
ONES

I
needed to cut steeks in my Fair Isle sweater and was perhaps overplanning and overconcerned. I realized that I'd slipped over the edge when I heard my daughter inviting over a friend.

“Hey, do you want to come over? My mom's supposed to cut up this sweater and she's really freaking out.”

Sometimes you need to cut steeks quickly, before you become “entertainment” for the whole neighborhood.

 

The only really good place to buy lumber is
at a store where the lumber has already been
cut and attached together in the form of
furniture, finished, and put inside boxes.

— D
AVE
B
ARRY

I
overheard my husband telling some friends that I was not very “handy” and that the words “some assembly required” were sure trouble. Although I agree that the bookshelf incident last year was pretty ugly, I still think he's wrong.

I'm a knitter. My projects are the ultimate in “some assembly required.”

 

A work of art is above all
an adventure of the mind.

— E
UGèNE
I
ONESCO

I
know this will come as a shock to some of you, but knitting is a bit of a gamble. It is possible that you can knit a swatch, wash and measure it, carefully calculate your gauge, absolutely study a pattern, execute it with patience and perfection … and still end up with something unexpected. This element of risk is what keeps the more adventurous of us knitting.

I will try to stay connected to my cheerful sense of adventure the next time an absolutely perfect sweater grows by 3 feet the first time I wear it.

 

Though we travel the world over to
find the beautiful, we must carry it
with us or we find it not.

— R
ALPH
W
ALDO
E
MERSON

B
efore I leave home on a trip, I plan to see all the significant things about the location I'm traveling to. I want to make sure I see everything I can. I do research and note all the places I want to see: places of worship, historical landmarks, natural wonders, and yarn shops.

I will resist the voice in my head that says there's no point in traveling to an incredible European village just because they don't sell wool there.

 

I saw the angel in the marble and
carved until I set him free.

— M
ICHELANGELO

S
ome knitters purchase yarn with a pattern and a plan. They buy with a specific goal, and most of it is used more or less immediately and as planned. Others talk about the yarn “telling them what it wants to be.” They buy and hoard yarns, seemingly at random, until a yarn speaks to them about its destiny. There is sometimes a lag of 20 years or more between a yarn purchase and its realization as a knitted item, although there may be several periods of swatching and “false starts.” This process cannot be rushed, or failure is certain.

Both ways are good, but if you prefer the latter, you need way more closet space.

 

True art is characterized by an irresistible
urge in the creative artist.

— A
LBERT
E
INSTEIN

S
ometimes I just stare at my husband. He has lived with a knitter all these years and yet has seemingly learned nothing of our ways. He is still able to say the most ridiculous things about knitting. For example, just the other day I was showing him some beautiful blue yarn in a catalog. He actually looked at the yarn (which was 80 percent wool and 20 percent mohair) and said to me, “Don't you already have blue yarn in the stash just like that?”

I could scarcely believe it. The blue yarn in the stash is 70 percent wool and 30 percent mohair. He has no idea.

I'm so misunderstood as an artist.

 

Knitting, Knitting, 1, 2, 3,
I knit the scarves for Roo and me;
I love honey and I love tea;
Knitting, Knitting, 1, 2, 3.

— K
ATHLEEN
W. Z
OEHFELD

W
hen my mother learned that she was pregnant with me, she decided that she should learn to knit. She started with a simple yellow scarf and worked on it (and hated it) until I was born. With each successive pregnancy my mom hauled out the poor yellow scarf, and with each baby it grew by an inch or two.