Blogging sister Annie Modesitt's handknit hood.
SOMETHING HAPPENS IN SEPTEMBER that tips off a wave across the Northern hemisphere, turning otherwise attentive women away from the bandaging of knees, backing them off from stuffing picnic baskets, and discouraging the raising of their hands to volunteer to score at scholastic sports events. A harbinger of fall, this tidal shift begins with one woman, and for years I’ve been trying to spot her: the first to go, the very first, and like those marvelous people who have lifelong bird lists and travel the world in search of the very last example of a single species, I do the opposite, searching each year for the very first of this breed of woman. This year, I found her.
There she was, at a local Single A baseball game, one chilly night, exactly two weeks ago, nodding every once in a while to her family, paying just enough attention to the game, whatever lines on her lovely face utterly smoothed by the deep satisfaction of having a very long, sharp stick in each hand, and a ball of wool in her lap: September’s first knitter. And soon, just like red and yellow maple leaves, I saw them everywhere.
Perhaps it’s a temperature thing, but whatever it is, while in some parts of the world the wind may indeed be called “Mariah,” or perhaps whisper “Mary,” into the heads of millions right now wafts a tune that can be sung to the rhythm of “knit one, purl one,” and the soon the socks and sweaters and hats are flying off the needles.
I knit. My sister does not. It’s very much a She Said, She Said, aspect of our lives. But ever since I started blogging, I have blogging knitting sisters, from newyorkminknit, to fromgarden2table, with café-eclectic.net, roadchick, and ironneedles, and all the rest of you who have given advice, cheered on my projects, and joined us on ravelry. So, sisters: rejoice. We are back in the woolery, and I for one am delighted to be face down in the soft and scratchy aspects of life.
I’m here to tell you, however, that while I failed miserably at my last project, I am about to rip it out and turn it into a reproduction of a favorite sweater purchased more than 25 years ago. And that’s just one reason why I love knitting. I mean, it’s a lot harder to repurpose the ingredients of a failed chocolate cake than it is an elaborate shawl.
To brighten up my skills, I’ll take a class in October from one of the sisters we met along the way, Annie Modesitt, when she visits my neck of the woods. (How about that hood up top? You can get all Annie’s patterns here.) And after that? A friend gives birth at the end of November (baby hat!), there are holiday socks to be made, and my oh my, there is that sweater I’ll have again to love and love.
I’m not the only one who looks forward to this time of year, of course. My husband does, as well, suggesting as he does each September that “things go better,” when I pick up my needles again, and like most things said in a marriage you’d like to wake up to tomorrow, I don’t ask him what he means by that, but knit along, just nodding every once in a while in his direction. The perfect marital aid.
Hear that contented sigh on the breeze? I’m sure you do.
What’s on your needles?
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{ 16 comments… read them below or add one }
Not a knitter here. I’ve tried many times and failed. Still have good intentions. But this is also the start or wonderful quilting weather!
Hi, Cheryl. And welcome to TSP, where we love our quilters and knitters and crafters, especially at this time of year. I keep meaning to try quilting, so I’ll read up on your blog (love the name: naptimequilter), and see what I can see. Thanks so much for coming by. Please come back soon.
I, too, am ready to cast on something besides a dishcloth.
Bring it, sister!
Hey there, Becky. So glad to read you here again. Yeah, I’m itching for a sweater, I am. Something besides a dishcloth is right on. Cast on, knit on, let’s get the wool on the pins, sisters!
Oh, my needles are on their way from my momma in Florida – but it’s been so long since I’ve used them, I will probably just stick to scarves for a while. (Luckily I love scarves!)
Hi, Danielle. Lovely to see you again. Oh, we knit the loveliest little scarf last year. Looks like this. I sent one to a friend in London who says it’s her favorite. Knit, on, sister. We all need a loyal scarf. And please come back soon.
I remember as a young, and quite naive, grade-schooler, I used to laugh at women I saw knitting. Now, as an adult, I know better – my judgment comes from inner envy. Pure knitting envy.
Hi, Amy. Lovely to read you here again at TSP. Ah, the old laughter-to-envy curve of life. Know it well myself. Never too late to knit, though. Keep coming back, please. We’ll just be here, hoping you’ll give knitting a spin.
I just knitted a wire beaded bracelet available as a kit (http://knitkitjewelry.com). A very fun project. Now I’m ready for something soft and chunky. And my wood stove.
Hi, Estyn. What a gorgeous name. Ooooh: Combining two things I love–jewelry and knitting. Nice. Sweet, in fact. I’m on it. Thanks so much for pointing that out to all of us here at TSP. Make sure you see Sister Paige’s knitting poem which, while slightly deranged, is also about getting out the needles right now. It’s here, and it’s a joy. Please keep coming back. We love our sisters to visit.
Ah, Fall. Lovely time of year! I’m a yearlong knitter, but it sure feels better to have a ball of warm yarn in your lap when it’s cold out, that’s for sure. I was braving the heat of the summer with a baby blanket on my lap, and it was not comfortable, let me tell you. My relatives have some nerve having a baby in JUNE! ;0) I am an ADD knitter: I keep to small projects for the most part because I get bored with the bigger ones more often than not. Now is the time that I start really enjoying knitting those hats, scarves and mitts. Because people start wearing them. And my greatest joy is seeing someone actually USING an item I lovingly created for them. Sigh. It’s a great time of year!
Hi, Amy: And welcome to TSP, where we may be fair-weather knitters, but never fair-weather sisters. We’re glad to have you here. How dare they indeed have a baby in June. The nerve! Harrrumphhh. Yes, I too love seeing someone wear what I’ve knit. I have a 90-year-old friend who, whenever I visit, puts on the green socks I knit him, and while I adore him for many reasons, this is the most recent. Please keep coming back. We love our knitty/crafty sisters.
This summer I spent lots of time knitting (an unfortunate amount of that on the front end pulling out and reknitting) two prayer shawls I sent to the national meeting of the denomination where I hang my church hat.
I put those needles away with no little relief and picked back up paint brushes, but there is no comparable cozy bit at the end of the day about having painted. I mean, you can spend some time picking paint specks off from around your fingernails…but that doesn’t compare to a puddle of wool in the lap and the satisfaction of holding something up now measurably more finished than when you picked it up.
Problem is, in order to knit anything other than the shawls, I’ll have to Learn. Something Else. New!!! Some days that sounds great, most days I think I’ll stick with what I know. Perhaps I have summer doldrum hangover. Whatever, that makes it extra nice to follow along here with you sisters who are definitely non doldrummy!
Hey, TexasDeb: Ooooooh, vicarious knitting. I like this idea. If we are in a sisterhood-and we are-whatever one of us knits, the others of us are kind of knitting as well. I think it’s a great idea. Though I do think that anyone who can knit two prayer shawls (how marvelous; how absolutely wonderful) can knit anything at all. Knit along with us, sister, any way you choose. You’re always welcome. Hope to see you here again soon.
Just when I am missing my New England autumn and all the people I left there more than I think I can stand, here comes And the Wind Screams: ‘Knitting!’ (http://thesisterproject.com/roach/and-the-wind-screams-knitting/) and I am reminded by a true sister-friend how I can get back home.
Wool.
The smell, the ‘hand’, the colors, the possibilities and all the memories of projects past. All serve as vivid reminders of who I was for so long and who I still am and always will be. No matter where I go.
When I read the Sister Project post on the 15th, I dropped everything and hauled out my stash. (It’s not what it used to be and that is a good thing.) I have two projects at hand – one is an almost finished entrelac bag, to be felted someday. That can wait. The other is a pullover vest – an homage to the Prince of Wales who popularized Fair Isle knitting in the 1920s by having his portrait painted in a natty slip over. (Find the pattern in Folk Vests by Cheryl Oberle.) It calls for seven moor-inspired colors of 2-ply Shetland wool and size 2 needles. That’s the one I choose. I know that ‘big knits’ are trendy for their simplicity and speed, but to me they will always feel awkward, cumbersome, and downright unpleasant. If I need a sweater in a hurry, I buy one and I suggest everyone do the same. For me, a knitting project is like a fine book – enjoyable every time I pick it up and I never look forward to finishing it, because I know I’ll miss it when I’m through with it.
My advice to novice knitters is to remove all expectations of producing a wearable garment in a reasonable amount of time. It will happen eventually, by accident, and be all the more thrilling because you didn’t see it coming. No, knit for your senses. Please your eyes with the colors, your hands with the texture and your ears with the rhythm, unique as a fingerprint, of your own clacking needles. If you’re knitting at home, occupy a cozy chair or sofa with a hot cup of tea nearby . Find a film with Maggie Smith, Emma Thompson and/or Joan Plowright on the tube and you will know comfort and peace . . . for however many sweet minutes you are able to make it last. Lap it up and remember to return when you can.
So, the wool is on my lap and the needles are in my hands. There’s a geranium leaf in my teapot and I am conjuring the sight and smell of a New England autumn – one of the sweetest things I know. Thank you, Marion. You’ve done it again. Love to you.
Hello, Mary Elizabeth. What a joy it is to read you here again on TSP.
This is a breathtaking tribute to knitting, and should be required reading for anyone who knits, is thinking about knitting, or has never considered knitting. Read up, sisters: Here is your call to the needles. I particularly love the recommendations of the movies, the seating, and the tea that go along with this, as well as the prescriptive assignment of what will come to you if you follow these simple instructions. Thank you, sister. This is a gorgeous piece of emotional tapestry all on its own.