"Properly practiced, knitting soothes the troubled spirit, and it doesn't hurt the untroubled spirit either." ~ Elizabeth Zimmerman


My Knitting History Part I

I don't have anything to write about yesterday because it was a quiet, boring day for the most part. So I thought I'd write about my knitting history.

When I was 9 years old my father took me down to the local Payless Drug store. He bought me a pair of 14 inch blue Boye size 6 knitting needles, a skein of really ugly worsted weight acrylic gold variegated yarn, and a little book with knitting lessons in it. When we got home he showed me how to cast on and do the knit stitch. Then told me to knit a scarf.

Up until that day, I did not even know my father knew how to knit. So this was all quite a surprise. For years and years I wondered how and where he learned to knit because he'd never told me. My father is not one to talk about himself. However, whenever he did talk about knitting, it was stories from his army days about knitting socks while sitting in a fox hole. So I assumed that's where he learned. It wasn't until just a few years or so ago I found out he'd learned to knit from his father, who learned from his father, who learned from his father, on down the line. (I had no brothers, so I got lucky.)

Needless to say, I LOVED it! I worked on that scarf until I ran out of yarn. Unfortunately, I needed a second ball to finish it. I hated the color so much I never got around to asking for that second ball-so I never finished the scarf. Instead, I talked my Mom into getting me 2 skeins of purple and white variegated (see? I've always loved purple). With this new yarn, and my little How To book, I learned the purl stitch. I knit a whole scarf in stockinette stitch, and used the book to learn how to bind off. I was HOOKED.

I used to carry my knitting around with me in a little basket. I even took it to school and worked on it on the school bus and during my lunch break. It took weeks and weeks for me to knit that scarf. I don't remember what the other kids thought about this. I must not have cared.

Over the years I have often wondered why? Why did he decided that day to teach me how to knit? I think I might know the answer. Earlier that year I'd been hanging out in the Cherry tree in the front yard, eating cherries. The branch I was standing on broke. I fell out and landed flat on my back, fracturing it. The fact that I can walk around today is a miracle.

Injuring my back severely curtailed my physical activity, pretty much for the rest of my life. I think my Dad taught me to knit because he saw that I needed something to do while sitting around. Whatever the reason, I'm thankful for what he did because knitting has given me many many hours of joy.

Have a great day.

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