I tried once before, in Seattle. My very dear friend Rachel took me to Third Place Books, and we browsed and shopped and then sat in comfy chairs so I could Learn To Knit. It was a grand thing! I was going to make so many darling projects! I couldn’t wait!
Oh, how I hated it. I hated stabbing the beautiful yarn with sharp sticks and it made me angry. It gave me headaches. I tried and tried and tried, and while Rachel was a wonderful, calm, soothing teacher, I just couldn’t get it. I wrote a short story where my character kicks a knitting needle through somebody’s eye. I abandoned my needles. That was that.
It’s nearly ten years later, and my bestie here in Vegas, my Angry Ginger, made me a beautiful red scarf that I wore to my grandmother’s funeral.
It was so lovely. So bright and cheery and feminine. She assured me the scarf was easy. I accused her of lies. There may have been some fisticuffs. A black eye or two. The Ginger bites. Just sayin’.
But she picked out some bamboo knitting needles and we chose gorgeous yarn.
Honestly? The second I sat down, the old feelings of hate and anger welled up. Some rather colorful things were said. But Angry Ginger was so patient.
It took maybe twenty minutes before I got the hang of it. After that, it really was a cinch.
And then two hours later, I had a scarf, modeled by my Middlest, who is five going on fifteen. What a sweet, beautiful girl.
I loved it! Seriously. It surprised me greatly. My Angry Ginger swooned about me being a natural, but that can’t be the case. The yarn made it really easy. I just stabbed sharp sticks through holes while watching a documentary on The Original Night Stalker. All in all, it was a fabulous time.