It’s with a sense of shame that I must confess that I am not entirely faithful… it’s true, not only am I a shameless hooker, but I have also been known to pick up not just two, but sometimes, three, four or even five needles and indulge myself in a frenzied few weeks of knitting!
What did you think I was going to say?
I don’t remember a time when I didn’t knit actually but I did ditch the old ‘knit one, purl one’ for quite a while once I discovered the wonder of the hook. It was a nasty bout of RSI (repetitive strain injury) that caused incredible pain across my back and shoulders due to working relentlessly on a hexagon blanket, that forced me to rediscover my first love. The problem was 100% cotton yarn, which (although looks fabulous) has no ‘give’ at all. With the little hexagons, there are lots of ends to weave in and so to secure those ends securely I had chosen a slightly smaller hook than is recommended for the yarn. MISTAKE!
I remember actually shedding tears when visiting Yarndale 2013 and experiencing a deep sense of loss at not feeling able to crochet any longer. I gazed longingly at the work of Amanda Perkins – of Amandas Crochet Blog, of Lucy of Attic24 and of so many talented and happy other hookers and I felt sure that this world was beyond my reach forever.
I tried to throw myself into knitting and gradually with the help of 3 Wingspans- this one was made for my lovely mother-in-law, the pattern for which I downloaded from Ravelry (hurray for Ravelry!) I gradually allowed myself to let go of my grief and embrace the new or is that ‘old’ lover that I had previously turned my back on.
I discovered the joy of knitting socks – and I really mean ‘joy’ – I knitted socks for every adult man in my life that Christmas – around 7 pairs, which were received with varying degrees of enthusiasm – some people just don’t understand the sheer bliss of the tiny little rows of neat and even stitches or the wizardry of a beautifully-turned heel – their loss.
I made around the same number of mittens for the females in the family as well as plenty for friends and colleagues. Women, in my experience, tend to ‘get’ what’s special about a handmade mitten, in their favourite colour and in a luxurious fluffy yarn – far more than most men ever will.
Resting my hooky shoulders, along with a few doses of amitriptyline to relax the muscles as well as cheer me up (apparently) worked wonders and now, with careful choice of yarns and if necessary alternating between knitting and crochet, the world is my lobster (or is that oyster?).
Which happens to go rather well with this…
And the promise of a recipe next time for something vegan yummy – oh yes!