Now I have to admit, I am not the best knitter. I cover this by claiming to be saving a craft or two for when I am old. To be honest, I firmly believe that a lot of the old ladies you see merrily knitting away have actually been knitting, making mistakes, undoing, and re-knitting the same piece of work since they were in their twenties. I do have many, many friends who are awesome at knitting though. I have friends who are so awesome at knitting they write about knitting for other people who know about knitting. Even my own Grandpa is a better knitter than I am, and I'm fairly certain he would win an award for "Least Likely To Knit". He can do stripes and use tiny thin needles, both of which are beyond me.
So far I have tried:
I was always a bit surprised how bad I am at knitting. I'm a creative person. I can sew, cross-stitch, draw, model, craft, bake...all pretty well (yes, modesty is another talent...I did say pretty well). Knitting? Not happening. Well, it happens a little. I can make squares, and rectangles. Which is all very well for making larger square or rectangular objects, but that's about it. I can even join rectangles together at the ends now and make snoods. But we all know how short-lived that fashion trend will be. *sigh* At least I'm not Knit-One-Drop-One any more, but even so, squares and rectangles are my limit. One colour, plain, chunky, squares and rectangles. But at least it's not a total fail.
That's only "regular" knitting, of course. I decided to branch out and see if Other Knitting was any easier.
I decided to try crocheting mainly because a magazine came out that gave away a crochet hook and two balls of wool to practice with. After a good couple of hours, much pulling apart of failed crocheting and even more hurling of profanity (and crochet hooks...), the project was cast aside to the back of the craft box, certain that the lovely blanket on the magazine cover was far out of reach.
A few months later, I decided to give it another shot. Fortunately for my sanity, the magazine had disappeared into the abyss that is my craft area, so off to Youtube I went. Bored of squares and rectangles, I decided to find something else. Flowers. That'll be pretty. I found this awesome tutorial video and, after an hour or so of meticulous pausing of the video every stitch or so, I had a fairly presentable-ish flower. So crocheting is not a total fail either. Yay!
I had one of those cute little French knitting dolls when I was a little girl.
Image Copyright myriadonline.co.uk
Now, when you're little, French knitting dolls are GREAT. You can, in a relatively short period of time, create a nice long (let's face it) woollen earthworm-esque object. As a child, that's great. Doll/teddy scarves, woolly bracelets, too-stretchy-to-be-useful shoelaces, hair bobbles, you name it, as long as it looks like a woollen earthworm, you can make it. I even remember making a coaster by wrapping my French knitting into a spiral, which was neither use nor ornament, given that a) it served little use in protecting furniture from heat or moisture, being made of wool, and b) it was made of a particularly eye-burning shade of neon (practically luminous) acid green wool (it was actually made from remnants of wool from a cardigan my Nana knitted me. I'm a neon 80s child, don't judge me...).
Now, re-think French knitting as an adult. An adult who has little to no use for woollen earthworms. An adult who has to ask a pretty obvious question: What the fudge do you use French knitting for?! Once you've knitted it, I mean. Once you're sat draped in woollen earthworms like Rapunzel draped in hair. I have images of little French Grandmas, French knitting away with their little dolls, until they have about a mile and a half long woollen earthworm, and then painstakingly coiling a jumper for their grandchildren like a potter coiling a vase on a pottery wheel.
Image Copyright Pot Bank Dictionary.
I say all hail those who are good at knitting. I will probably be practicing well into my 90s, when I finally create a perfect knitted item.
So now the only question is: Do I want to be buried in my final/first successful project, or leave it as a family heirloom?
There's a thought...I could always try a loom...