Monday, July 12, 2010
I have long wished I was one of those cool girls who whips out her knitting on the train or during intermission or while sitting around the campfire in the heart of Africa.* My grandmother and great aunts were all domestic goddesses who knit and purled with the best of them, but when they tried to teach me their secrets, their demonstrations confounded my chubby, little-girl fingers and I've never managed to make more than 15 inches of wobbly scarf.
The summer, as I have nothing better to do than finish my master's thesis (which, really, is a minor thing), I am determined to teach myself to knit. To that end, Penny and I walked to the library today and checked out two beginner's guides to knitting, and I liberated four skeins of yarn (three orange, one lemon yellow) from my grandmother's left-behind stash in the boys' basement.
Any and all advice will be gratefully accepted.
* Part of this social fantasy may stem from the fact that I wish I was a girl who rode trains and sat around campfires in the heart of Africa, but I am very good at pretending. Once I learn to knit, I'm sure the rest will come.
Photo courtesy of Flickr