I love to hear how knitters got started knitting. I don't think I have ever shared my own story so in the spirit of starting a fresh, clean blog I would like to do that. You probably know by now that the old blog is kaput. Dead. Sadly gone to the land of internet contamination.
Anyway, the story: as an only child I was accustomed to being alone, listening to music, reading, and playing with stuffed teddy bears and bunnies. I didn't like dolls. I had my dog and stuffed toys to feed tea and biscuits and put to bed, each in their own little doll bed with pillow and blanket. Never could get that dog to stay where I put him, but I digress.
At age nine we moved into a little red brick craftsman cottage across the street from my Mother's closest friend, Stella. She was Suzy Homemaker. Stella decorated her little cottage with handmade style. She sewed the slipcovers for her furniture, hooked the rugs on her floors and was adept at throwing the pots and vases she used to artfully arrange flowers, plants, potpourri, and balls of yarn around the house. She even knitted the pale pink cashmere sweater that she wore with a black pencil skirt--her trademark outfit. At nine I wanted to be Stella.
Imagine my joy when she asked Mom if she could teach us (me too!) to knit. I was deliriously happy and determined to become the best nine year old knitter in the world. I wanted to make Stella proud of me. I succeeded but Mom didn't. It was then that I came to believe that knitters are born not created! Mom did take to crochet, however, and it became her lifetime crafting love.
Thankfully my Mom took pleasure in buying me all the yarn I could use. I developed a love for Barbie Dolls and baby dolls when I realized I could knit for them. Add to that the thrill of discovering that my cranky little dog loved the sweaters I knit for him and I was a busy little knitter! Even DH, who at nine was my best friend, came to understand that the yarn and I were a unit. If he wanted a lifetime with the odd little redhead with the needles permanently attached to her hands, he would have to get used to hauling the stuff around and living with it.
We hauled, we lived and I knit through all of it. So that's how the blog fodder started. I would love to hear how it all started for you!
Life continues to be good.