I don't often show you my knitting, do I?*
(* unless you follow me on instagram, in which case I hardly ever show you my finished knitting).
Theoretically, this is because knitting is a lot slower than sewing, and tends to happen disproportionately in autumn, and, well, I'm just more used to talking about sewing. But just because something happens less often doesn't mean it's not happening at all, and as a matter of fact I knit all year round, plus, I'm actually very capable of wittering on about all kinds of random crap (in case you hadn't noticed). No, that's not the reason I don't blog about it. The reason is: I'm rarely proud of my knits in the way I'm proud of my sews (yes, as a noun. Suck it up).
I've knit enough now to more or less know what I'm doing, or to be able to figure it out. I know when I'm prepared to troubleshoot and when I'm prepared to frog it and start again. I can follow the instructions, which is an achievement in and of itself: learning to read knitting patterns is like learning a foreign - nay, ALIEN - language (and don't even ask me about knitting from charts). But generally, I just don't have the experience, the feel, for it yet that turns out the level of finish I'd like.
I know realism and fail-commiseration have their own, rightful places on sewing and crafting blogs. It's not like I deliberately avoid those things. But what can I say? It's just more fun to share the things that turned out cool, isn't it?
Yes. It is. And so we have here a piece of knitting that, ok, I'm pretty pleased with. VERY pleased with, in fact!
I made it for my husband's Bomma - his grandmother - who turned 90 last week. I don't wear a great deal of shawls myself, and really not ones with lace patterns, but for a while I'd been itching to try one anyway simply because there are so many patterns out there that look fantastically fun to knit (see point 14). Which this was! It's deceptively simple and surprisingly quick, yet those leaf shapes are really high impact - and it was a little bit like magic watching them appear.
The pattern is Leaves On The Line by Susan Ashcroft, who is otherwise known as the stitchnerd and has legions of devoted fans on ravelry. I can now be counted as one of them - both the design and the explanations are incredibly intuitive, and this was one of the most relaxing things I've ever knit. (If you'd like more technical details, my ravelry notes are here). Plus, SHE'S FROM BRUSSELS! Which is where all the cool kids live, don't you know?
This weekend there was a big family party for Bomma - literally. She's the lynchpin of an enormous extended family, having (step)mothered thirteen children - who now have children of their own, who now have children of their own, and everyone plus spouses was there. We estimated about 80 people present, all of them related to each other in some way.
Understandably I think, at 90 years of age, Bomma had instructed 'no presents'. But me and the husband decided that
what she really meant was that she didn't want to be swamped with stuff, especially considering the number of people involved, and that something handmade and useful would be exempt.
We didn't want to make a fuss, and gave it to her quietly as we were leaving. She opened it out, and we had a little chat about the knitting, and then she looked
up at us, and smiled and said:
"You know, I don't like presents usually,
because, well, people these days just don't make an effort."
Which was about the best thing anyone has said about a homemade present ever.