Tuesday night was our first GNOK or Girls’ Night Out for Knitting. D. came by after work to offer C. and I a lesson. One of us took to knitting like a duck to water. While D. was wrapped up in getting her started, I bought some time.
I emptied my knitting bag, sorted needles, unpacked stuff trapped in plastic for 10 or 15 or 25 years, rooted around for a little tin to put the tiny stuff in, resorted needles, repacked the bag, looked through a book of patterns, then another book, and yet still a few more — those of the Xeroxed, folded and faded variety, circa 1984. (Who says xeroxed these days? So dated it’s fun.)
Finally, D. could not stand another minute of my shenanigans. “What are you doing? You need to get started! I can’t stay here all night!”
And I knew she was right. But it was just, well, I was stuck. I’ve started maybe a dozen knit things that I’ve never finished. Basic, boring things — a scarf, a potholder. What made me think I’d stick with this? Was it worth the possibility of failing again to try again? I wasn’t sure I was willing to unravel the yarn and find out. Besides, I was thoroughly enjoying the banter and their company. I really didn’t need to knit to call the evening a success!
But D. was not to be denied. She came to teach knitting; doggone it, I was going to knit! Okay, then, I conceded. “Remind me: how do I cast on?”And so I knit and purled a few wobbly stitches, then rows. For the first time, with D.’s help, I followed a pattern! I had only a bit of chintzy purple yarn to get started but at least I was started. That is a necessary step toward finishing, it seems. ;=)
Two days later, I was pondering how to navigate my schedule and ineptness to purchase real yarn for a project I wasn’t sure I could manage to re-start. I had a sinking feeling about my prospects. But, lo and behold, D. was back! Not at my door but on the phone. “Do you want to meet me at the yarn store tonight?” Hmm. Well, yes, I guess I could do that. Buying yarn seems the best next step.
So we met there, at a newly opened store; one I had no idea existed. It’s only a few miles from my home in a tiny town without a single stop light and a chasm where the bridge should be. There is a post office, a library, and a wine and liquor store across the street from Susan’s shop. That’s about it. Turned out, it was enough.
What a treasure! Honeyed hardwood floors, circa 1800, stretch back through a homey, welcoming shop. Mountains of colorful fabrics, miles of gorgeous yarns, all of the requisite supplies to knit and sew, overflow shelves and counters. D. talked me through the array, decoding the labels and suggesting the fibers most appropriate for my project. We were no time at all finding a merino blend, “superwash” and silky soft in sage green. Perfect.
So, there’s still that bit about casting on, eh? I’ll get back to that this weekend. With beautiful yarn to work with, I’m sufficiently motivated to figure it out. Plus, I have my friend on speed dial. A friend loves at all times and a “sister” is born for knitting mishaps. Proverbs 17:17. You can look it up yourself but that’s how I read it. ;/0