Knitting

Recently I have taken up knitting. I knit my thoughts and feelings stitch by stitch into the my creation on the circular needles. All of life's joy, frustration, sadness, happiness gets woven into the garment; and a little bit of dog hair, too.

I am making myself a sweater; but I paused long enough to make my daughter a pair of STITCH 'N BITCH HURRY UP SPRING ARM-WARMERS, from Stitch 'n Bitch Nation by Debbie Stoller. I have almost finished the first one.

My mother taught me to knit when I was a little bit older than a baby. Then she taught me to purl. That's all. I made squares, many many squares of knit, or knit and purl in every possible permutation. She told me it would be too hard for me to knit a sweater. Ever.

I recently visited my mother (now 83) in "the home". I told her I was knitting. I thanked her for teaching me. She told me she didn't believe me. Oh, yes, she believes I am thankful for her teaching me to knit. She doesn't believe that I am actually making a garment. *sigh* I will have to take it to her . . .

Mother was a nurse in post-WWII Germany. The country was effete, and all the wool had been gathered to clothe Hitler's army and weave for them blankets. She unraveled a Red Cross blanket and crafted an intricate ski-sweater for herself. She knit me a plethora of sweaters. The Red-Cross sweater was my favorite, and I took it to college. I loved her inventiveness and bravery whenever I wore it.

Gratitude is fulfilling.