Remember the First Time?

Do you remember when you first decided to learn how to knit? Do you remember why you wanted to learn?

I have been knitting for more than eight years. Actually, it's closer to nine. It was only recently that I found an old journal that could pin point the date to within a given month. A lot has happened in the intervening years. While I've known how to knit for almost a decade, the date I actually became a knitter was more recent and more significant in it's relevance to my obsession passion for the craft. That is the memory that usually comes immediately to mind when asked how long I've been waving pointy sticks around. I have to do math from that date to get to the real number of 8 plus years.

The why still escapes me to this day, though I'm sure I had a really good reason to learn at the time. None of my friends knitted. My mother knows how, but her thing has always leaned towards paper crafts. I think my grandmother knew how but the only fiber projects I remember were crocheted. I suspect that I came across an incredibly over-priced sweater or scarf and thought to myself "how hard can it be?". Then again, I could have just gotten the notion because I had nothing better to do that day. I've done stranger things for less reason than that.

My first project was a sweater. Yes,that's right a sweater. No sticking my toe in the water to test the temperature for me. Nope, nada, no way. I didn't wear hats or gloves with any regularity. Scarves abounded plenty in my closet. I decided I wanted to learn to knit and a sweater seemed the practical choice.

I never wore it. Atleast not for more than a few minutes. And never in public.

I chose a bright variegated worsted weight acrylic yarn from Red Heart. My local Meij*er store had several skeins of Red Heart and Lion Brand in a multitude of fibers and weights to choose from. From the start, I grasped the idea that substituting yarns for my first project might be a bit more advanced than I was ready for. No, the concept that a sweater was a bit more advanced never occurred to me. I purchased the required amount of yarn, the pattern book, the how-to instruction booklet, and the correctly sized needles.

I quickly mastered the knit stitch and the mating purl stitch. I even understood the concept of gauge. It was several projects later that I learned WHY gauge was critical, but suffice it for this story that I did realize early on that it WAS critical. It took bit longer to learn how to knit and purl in the same row. The instructions said to move the yarn to the front when switching to purl stitches. I did - under the growing rows of fabric. It created a nice ruffle effect, but 2 x 2 ribbing it was not. Squinting at the picture did little to clear up my confusion. It wasn't until I accidentally did it right that the light glowed brightly on how to flip the yarn front to back correctly.

After 3 inches of ribbing on US 3 needles and 2 inches of stockinette on size US 6 needles, I was rapidly losing interest in the project. A habit I still regularly indulge. The pattern was a drop sleeve pullover. I was supposed to knit 21 inches to the neck shaping, but by the time 17 inches had been knit boredom won. Having known how to sew since I was in grade school, I immediately recognized that the same 4 inch adjustment would be required for the front. A few weeks later, the front piece was completed. A few more weeks after that I had a pair of sleeves. It took several tries, and I use that term loosely with understatement, until I learned how to mattress stitch all the pieces together.

The more astute among you have already added up that tight ribbed edge plus a cropped length equals a sweater not for public consumption. The ribbing began only three to four inches below the underwire of my unmentionables. I recall that it barely reached the top of my jeans. It was beautifully knit, but ugly to wear. It sat in my closet for over four years. I was proud of what I had learned, but smart enough to not be caught dead wearing it. One day it was gone. I don't remember throwing it out or donating it. I suppose I had eventually amassed enough finished objects that could be worn outside the home. I no longer needed that sweater as a reminder of what I had accomplished.

For the record my next project was a feather & fan blanket. No fitting required.