The Analyzing Knitter

Shoulie 1993 - 2009

Shoulie died on April 14, 2009. 

As my son, S, described her, "She certainly was a sweet loving cat, always eager to greet new people and make friends." She was my little knitting partner. I miss her very much.

Still Here . . .Knitting . . . Reading

I have been away from blogging due to a busy schedule but I hope to get back into the swing of things. On vacation I read an interesting, relaxing book about knitting. Take a look. Here is an excerpt.

Knitting the Threads of Time
by Nora Murphy

"A woman sits in her comfy chair. Two needles and a ball of yarn keep her company. She’s knitting away at something. Maybe a scarf? Socks?  She enjoys the sound of her needles beating like a soft drum. She 
inhales the smell of the waxy yarn. She exhales the satisfaction of watching a single strand transform into an object of beauty. She is perfectly present, in perfect bliss.

This is not a revolutionary act. It is not a moment to record in the history books. All the same, this woman is a revolutionary. She, and millions of women around the globe like her, are making history in 
their homes. They are creating clothing for loved ones. They are the grandmother who knits a Christmas stocking for her grandchild, the young mother who stitches a star quilt to honor an elder, the two seventh graders who crochet a baby blanket for a teacher’s newborn.

Their craft often has to be wedged into the harried schedules and nonstop demands of modern life. The grandmother knits in the hospital waiting room while she awaits the results of her husband’s surgery,  his third. The young mother penny-pinches time and money to piece together the dozens of diamonds that will become a star. The preteens’ work competes with homework, pimples, and text messages from boys they haven’t yet kissed.

What these modern artists often don’t see are the remnants of an ancient lineage to which they belong. The grandmother, the young mother, and the girls are all descendants of the women around the globe who have transformed fibers into clothing to protect their families for tens of thousands of years. They are the heirs to goddesses who understood that human survival depends on the cloth. These ancients — from China to Egypt, from Peru to the Pacific Northwest — understood that clothing contains the power of creation. The modern knitter is no different. She too, replicates the act of creation; she too keeps the child, the clan, the community alive.

In North America, most of today’s needle artists don’t have to worry that our children will go cold if we don’t finish the sock, the quilt, or the blanket. We have the luxury of buying most of our clothes at 
big chain stores at the local mall. - continued -We choose freely to make garments. Yet by this choice, contemporary crafters keep the ancient tradition going — a tradition that reminds us of our primal existence on this precious earth, that reminds us where we’ve come from and who we are.

Inside a stitch, just a single knitted stitch, lies the paradox of the ordinary, everyday textile hero. Her simple stitch helps keep the story of humanity alive; her work casts on stitches for the next generation.

I am a modern-day knitter, though I admit this hesitantly. The domestic sciences have never been my strong suit. I nearly flunked home economics in high school. We started with cooking, but my assignments resulted in burned objects destined more often for the trash can than the table. I didn’t fare much better when we started sewing. I loved the idea of making my own clothes, but I couldn’t 
figure out how to thread the bobbin without swearing or slicing my finger. I couldn’t cut fabric on the bias. Lacking domestic skills didn’t much matter until I had children of my own — children who need 
three meals a day, every day, who need clothes to keep them warm in the long winter months.
Despite my domestic demerits, I’m the one in charge of my household, which includes middle schooler Andrew, first grader Evan, and my partner and the boys’ good friend, Diego. Everyone pitches in: Evan 
takes out the recycling, Andrew cleans the downstairs bathroom, Diego folds the laundry. Still, under my management, the house is often cluttered, and dinner rarely gets four stars. There’s just one domestic art that doesn’t stump me — knitting. It’s not that I’m very good at it. It just doesn’t scare me the way cooking and cleaning do.

Last winter I managed to make wool socks for Evan and Andrew. It had been years since I had knit. I was surprised that none of the basic dance steps with the yarn and two knitting needles had left me. I 
remembered how to cast on, knit, purl, and bind off without having to think — a bicycle kind of thing. Plus knitting, unlike sewing, has no bias. Knitting welcomes everyone, and the yarn goes any direction you  tell it to."

Nora Murphy is a freelance writer who specializes in writing for 
nonprofit organizations in the urban communities in Minneapolis and 
St. Paul. Her stories and essays have appeared in such places as the 
anthology Twelve Branches (Coffee House Press, 2003). She holds an MFA 
degree in writing from Hamline University. She lives in St. Paul.

 From the book, Knitting the Threads of Time © Copyright 2009 by Nora 
Murphy. Reprinted with permission from New World Library. www.newworldlibrary.com
  or 800-972-6657 ext. 52.

And Happy Birthday to my 27 year-old son!!!!

We love you!