Casting On

Herman Melville wrote: We cannot live only for ourselves. A thousand fibers connect us with our fellow men; and among those fibers, as sympathetic threads, our actions run as causes, and they come back to us as effects.

My love affair with the color, texture, and manipulation of fibers began very young. At age five, my mother gave me one of those spool things and a hank of variegated Red Heart yarn. I loved seeing each color blend into the next but the knitted cord, which we now call i-cord, served very little purpose, as far as I could see. My mother said you could sew the cord into a round rug, but I had no interest in rugs at that point in my life. I was more interested in dolls and stuffed animals. So, Mom taught me to knit and I began to knit little scarves and vests for my inanimate friends. Shortly after that, she taught me to crochet and, in junior high school, to sew. Looking back, I think it's interesting that, although she passed on so many handcrafts to me, she never seemed to do much of them herself. I'm sure, it was a matter of time. She was a devoted full-time housewife and, like many of her generation, she put her own needs at the bottom of a list that never ended. Later, after the kids were out on their own and my father had retired, she returned to the art of crochet and she made many colorful baby blankets for grandchildren and afgans for their parents.

In college, I began to knit in earnest. Scarves gave way to simple crew necks and then to complex Aran knit cardigans and jackets. Recently, I found a fisherman knit sweater that I made for my husband before we married. (No one told me about the Sweater Curse and it didn't work against me.) It was made from heavy Irish wool and I remember what a joy it was to knit. The unprocessed wool was full of natural lanolin and it made my hands silky smooth when I worked with it. When it was finished, it was a source of great pride. Unfortunately, it was so heavy that he wore it only once. I stashed it away in a cedar chest and forgot about it. Last month, when I was looking for handknit garments to show my beginning knitters' class, I found it. Husband-in-question, Paul, saw it too and, before I knew it, he was wearing it while he worked on his computers in the unheated attic. Thirty-odd years later, it still fits.

To the business of blogging, I never thought I would want to do it. The more caustic part of my nature always asked, "What makes you think others want to share your thoughts?" However, I have read many great blogs--mostly about knitting. I have learned new things, enjoyed interesting stories, and been given much to consider. Having spent so many years as a solitary knitter, I realized that it could be an enriching group activity and, as such, the internet serves as the vehicle to bring us all together for just that purpose. So, here I am! Add "Blogger" to my resume.