July 21, 2009
Internet, it is confession time. I am a compulsive, 23-year-old knitter. And not just knitting scarves and hats made out of Wal Mart Red Heart yarn with cheap supplies. I'm talking high quality yarns with silk, alpaca, merino wool, and 100% cotton. Knit on $25 ebony handcrafted needles. And the amazing yarns with the soft and the amazing. And the soft. And the amazing.
I've made scarves, hats, blankets, socks, sweaters, and gloves. And I'm only getting started. I've only been knitting for about two years. I just learned cables. I've got a long way to go, and it excites me. I started out crocheting. Knitting is simply more economical, as well as a lot easier on the hands. Although it takes about three times as long to complete anything.
It's not always the finished product though. It's learning along the way and the process of getting there. It's the social occasions that arise out of knitting with friends. I go to my local yarn shop once a week for breakfast and knit with them, but countless hours were also spent in my dorm room with some of my closest friends from college knitting away and talking and watching movies. Great memories were made, and every time I wear a hat or a scarf or sweater that was made in those hours, it makes me smile. It's a completely new kind of warm.
Since coming home I've also been hooked up with a local organization that knits for charity, in particular chemo caps for patients. The two hats featured in this post are the two hats I've made so far for the charity. So then you end up taking something that really is an art and a cathartic pastime and turning out a product that is for the benefit of others. And I think that might be an even better feeling.
Frankly, knitting helps keep me sane. Many things have happened in the Patchie Universe since I took up the craft, and it has been a fabulous escape. I have laughed and cried over my needles more times than I can count. I have grown closer to people through the yarn. I've also spent a lot of money. A lot.
It's an addiction that many people poke fun at me for (I mean really, how many 23-year-olds do you know that have knit a blanket for their grandparents?), and I laugh back. It is ridiculous. But it's mine. And it's staying with me forever.