Knitting started for me a long time ago when they actually taught it in 5th grade to the girls. I lived in Bishop, California with my grandparents for a winter. Maybe it was because they insisted we wear skirts in that arctic weather. What ever the reason, we were given a set of needles and a ball of yarn and taught to knit a basic pair of slippers. Since my other grandmother was an avid knitter I did not see the need to further my knitting career and promptly gave it up after I went back to the San Francisco Bay Area where I was busy growing up. Years passed and that grandmother presented me with baby sweaters when I began presenting her with grandchildren. I guess I wore her out, though because after grandchild #6 came along she declared her hands too arthritic to knit. I was horrified. That baby needed a Coming Home from the Hospital sweater, just like the rest. So I checked a book out of the Vancouver, Washington library where my wanderings (and then husband) had landed me, and proceeded to knit myself a sweater for practice. It’s not a pun to say I was hooked. The baby got her sweater and I got more needles and yarn. Vancouver is next to Portland, Oregon where it rains perpetually so this was a good addition to my sewing hobby.
Fast forward 3 more children, a new husband and a new life on Cape Cod. Knitting needles were tucked into beach bags and suitcases as we wandered up and down the Northeastern New England coast. I found yarn shops everywhere, even some that raised their own sheep, spun and dyed their own wool and sold it to me. But life of a mother with all those children got hairy, to say the least, when they grew into rebellious teenagers and the knitting needles were tucked in a box for years.
Then suddenly, those children were older, wiser and starting families. And like sea sirens the knitting needles were calling me. Since the day my older daughter told me she was pregnant I have been knitting madly. And my old yarn, which sat waiting all those years magically turned into blankets and sweaters, hats and scarves.
The journey has been taken up again and my wanderings have taken me to Paris, Switzerland, the South of France and all over the US. Everywhere I search for yarn (I have a serious addiction), meet other knitters and feel sorry I ever left the craft dormant for so long. My favorite shops are in Paris (love Phildar yarns which you can’t buy in the US anymore) which would be tricky except my daughter lives there. I’m pleased you have found me, I hope you will join me on my way.