I come from a long line of knitters. My mum and granny could whip off an insanely complex Aran sweater while reading a book.
The gene passed me by. They tried to teach me, but I never got beyond four inches of tight, grubby wool intended to be a Doctor Who scarf (all the rage when I was about 13; we wore them to school, long enough to brush the floor, and then they got banned in case we tripped on them or something.)
Still, I have enough appreciation for the craft to ooh and ah over the projects my friend does and my jaw dropped when she showed me her latest one, a pair of socks she's very kindly knitting to send to my dad in England.
Did you know that they sell wool now that's self-striping? So you have a ball of multicolored wool, all messy looking and random, and as you knit with it, the stripes appear as if by magic?
That is awesome. I am awed. I don't have a clue how it works, but that is very, very clever.
The gene passed me by. They tried to teach me, but I never got beyond four inches of tight, grubby wool intended to be a Doctor Who scarf (all the rage when I was about 13; we wore them to school, long enough to brush the floor, and then they got banned in case we tripped on them or something.)
Still, I have enough appreciation for the craft to ooh and ah over the projects my friend does and my jaw dropped when she showed me her latest one, a pair of socks she's very kindly knitting to send to my dad in England.
Did you know that they sell wool now that's self-striping? So you have a ball of multicolored wool, all messy looking and random, and as you knit with it, the stripes appear as if by magic?
That is awesome. I am awed. I don't have a clue how it works, but that is very, very clever.
Tags: