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.
You know what true friend’s do? They sit on their Angry Ginger’s feet.
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.