“Knitting is very conducive to thought. It is nice to knit a while, put down the needles, write a while, then take up the sock again.” — Dorothy Day
A quote about knitting AND writing? This must be my lucky day. I know how to write, and I’m learning how to knit. Both are likely lifelong pursuits of trying to learn more, improve, and hopefully enjoy the results. I have to wonder, is this concept why some people call a good story a “yarn?”
I’ve known the basics of knitting since I was about 8, if you can call the basics my mother tossing me a half-finished scarf on needles longer than my arms and saying, “Here, give it a shot.” Naturally, that didn’t go well, and I never learned anything beyond a few basic stitches.
I have two dear friends who are gifted with knitting skills. They’ve made baby blankets, gloves, mittens, hats, and so much more. I’ve made one neck cowl and one hat, but I’m now working on a scarf where I can honestly say I did every stitch with nothing but a few pointers from knitting friends.
My big accomplishment this time was “casting on,” which doesn’t mean I have a part in the next “Barbie” movie; it’s how you attach the yarn to your needles. My friend always did that for me, but now I can. Not well, not quickly, but I can do it.
I’ve also learned two different stitches. That’s practically genius-level, right? One is a “curly” stitch, and the other is a “V” stitch. They have actual real names, but I can’t keep them straight. If you want the piece to have V-shaped stitches, you have to do one row wrapping the yarn in one direction, then do the next row in the opposite direction. It’s a challenge for me because I get to the end of the row and promptly forget which way I did it.
The vocabulary of knitting is fun, too. Everyone who knits has a “stash,” a closet or a bin full of yarn. It sounds way more exciting to say, “I have to check my stash to see what’s there,” like it could be pirate treasure or chocolate. When knitting, the experts refer to the basic stitch directions as “stab it, strangle it, rip its guts out, and throw it away.” Not going to lie, it’s a great way to get out some stress.
If you make a mistake knitting, you can yank out the yarn stitches with the frog method of “ribbit, ribbit,” pull it all out, and begin again. I wish more parts of life worked that way. Also, knitting, unless you are watching a YouTube video to learn how, is decidedly low-tech. While I usually love anything related to screens, it’s kind of nice that it’s impossible to doom scroll through social media and knit at the same time, so it’s helping me to unplug.
I’m far from being able to do anything but knit in a straight line. Even the simplest stitches are still challenging, but that’s OK. I’ve found that knitting is communal — every yarn store I have ever been in has a table and chairs in the back so that people can sit and knit, compare projects, help each other, and chat.
Yarn, needles, and projects are not the only topics that come up, but anything that brings people together around a table in a cozy setting has to be magical. There is an instant bond between knitters; if you are out somewhere and pull out your latest knitting project, guaranteed someone will stop and say, “Oh, what are you making?” and the next thing you know, you have a new friend and you’re trading tips and bits from your stash.
Do you need a new hobby or something to get you through the rest of the winter? Ditch the tech, find a buddy or a good yarn store (I like Marblehead Knits), and get stitching!
Brenda Kelley Kim has lived in Marblehead for 50 years, and is an author, freelance writer, and mother of three. Her column appears weekly.