Yea, the sparrow hath found an house, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, even thine altars, O Lord of hosts, my King, and my God.
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Friday, September 12, 2014
It used to be normal
Rubbish. This is just normal knitting speed for someone who was taught properly in childhood.
This is one of the great crimes of modernity, the robbing of these skills from young people. I grew up watching my mother and grandmother and their friends doing this constantly. None of them ever went out without some kind of needle work tucked into their purses, and any time they had reason to wait, in the post office, at a bus stop, out would come the stuff and off they went. Throughout my childhood, I took it for granted that this is just what ladies did.
And they all knitted this fast. Crochet too. Later in life, my mother took up bobbin lace and tatting.
So familiar were the movements that when I finally decided to pick it up myself, at 16, it took a few lessons from the (of course) English mother of a friend, and in no time at all, my fingers just automatically started doing what I had grown up watching.
But I realised how culturally impoverished modern young people have become when I took some knitting with me to a meeting of student pro-lifers in Toronto one weekend. As the speakers were talking, I sat at my spot working on a pair of socks. They were all fascinated, and quite taken aback. I told them that my mother had knitted her way through her undergraduate degree (maths and marine biology). She said it drove her professors mad to see her there, fingers flying, looking as though she wasn't paying attention, but they soon learned that it actually aids concentration. These days of course, the kids sit in class looking at their phones and tablets. (Note to self, if I ever teach a class in anything, the first person to pull out their phone while I'm talking will get the ruler across the fingers.)
Mothers, if you don't know how to do these things, learn them, and do them in front of your kids. Save Western Civilisation; learn to knit.
~
I had my knitting with me at work last week and I was told that I couldn't possibly be paying attention to the meeting I was attending. As you say, rubbish! I learned to knit at about 7 years. My Finniah father had to knit socks as a child. I taught my sons to knit on my knitting machine. And I look forward to teaching my little grandpeople how to knit when they are old enough! But I don't knit quite as fast as the lady in your post...
ReplyDeleteThat was supposed to be 'Finnish'....
ReplyDeleteI tried knitting but was hopelessly slow! But I can knit something well, when I bother. My mother is pretty fast and does a beautiful job, although she vastly prefers crochet. I asked her a couple of years ago to crochet me a woolen poncho. It's lovely. :)
ReplyDeleteLouise L
Name/URL is back!
ReplyDeletew00t!
Needle tatting or shuttle?
ReplyDeleteChloe: Shuttle.
ReplyDeleteI also did a lot of crochet for a while, and then discovered I was getting really bad repetitive motion injury in my fingers and wrist, so gave it up.
For a long time I just couldn't get the knack of knitting, and I never learned it in childhood. Then one day, I just picked it up again, and was suddenly good at it. Odd.
I tried for ages to get 'the flip' without success. Just when I had it worked out I spotted needle tatting, All that time and I didn't need to learn it at all. I could've spit. I like it because it's fairly easy to undo if you make a mistake and I make a lot of mistakes. My hat is off to you for using a shuttle. I can't knit or crochet because I get knitters elbow. I never was fast. X
ReplyDeleteI kept seeing these 18th century paintings of fine ladies (in magnificent gowns) tatting away with these huge shuttles. Often they were gorgeous art pieces themselves, with all sorts of enamelling and filligree. But the big ones would be more practical since you could get way more thread on the spool. I tried in vain for years to find a big one though. The only thing you can get in our dark times are the teeny little stainless steel ones. I wish I were handier with tools because I'd make one.
ReplyDeleteI also tried to knit as a child and was hopelessly bad at it. I tried again in college and was still bad at it (my friends who could knit got tired of picking up my dropped stitches for me and begged me to desist). Then in my twenties after several years of crocheting, I tried again, and I got it. Now I haven't crocheted a thing in years, but I knit in incessant binges. I taught my daughter to knit, and we are hoping that this is the year my granddaughter will learn. There have been times when knitting has saved my sanity, and I suspect that this week may well be one of them. At the very least it will calm me in the midst of the huge storms. I'm so very glad that I gave it a third try. Oh, and by the way, I became a much more proficient knitter than either my mother or my grandmothers. All they ever knit were blankets and mittens. My mother discouraged me from trying socks because she said turning the heel was too complicated. Pshaw! I can turn the heel of a sock while listening to a conference presentation or taking part in a meeting. I no longer need any instructions for sock knitting at all unless I'm trying a new stitch pattern. Knitting has been revived in our family, and I hope the next generation will carry it on. Oh, and for the record, my daughter is an even more talented knitter than I am. Knitting is one of the things she doesn't remember learning to do (reading is another). She just feels like she's always known how to knit.
ReplyDelete