In all it’s handknit glory. Try as I might, I could not find a store-bought cover in the right miniature size for this teensy computer. So now I’ve created the well matched combination of my very own knitting cradling my writing machine in cushioned safety.
I often think of my novel-in-progress as I do my knitting works-in-progress: there are holes with the potential for unraveling the whole. Those are the ones I’ve got to find and stop up. Then there are the stitches that hold everything together. Not necessarily the noticeable ones, but the ones with all the strength and structure weighing on their shoulders. Those are the ones I want to test – pull at and see if they hold fast and stay true.
Not sure my fingers are up for this challenge, but I am certainly considering it. Like the idea of making something and not buying it. And the anatomical heart is so much more masculine than the commercial heart. Of course, my husband doesn’t need any extra hearts, because he’s already got mine. But this is pretty adorable. http://www.knitty.com/ISSUEwinter08/PATTheart.php
Readers may find it beggars belief, but these same hands knit both of these mittens. Sadly, the perfect mitten was the first ‘knitten’. It took me all of twenty-four hours under the watchful eye of my expert Nanny S. in Newfoundland. Clearly, I was able to channel the skill of my Newfoundland Foremothers on this one, not to mention ask my grandmother every step of the way what I should do next. No pattern by the way – just frequent trying-ons.
The second mitten, after returning to the Big Smoke, took over a month of dithering and was completed finally on the inaugural Friday Night Knitting Club just held here. It looks like it was made more for an Alien than human hand. What may not be clear are what look like several pairs of tiny vampire teethmarks, scattered around the second, deeply flawed mitt.
Along with living in infamy on the internet, this pair may be headed straight for a glassed-in frame on the wall where they can be preserved for posterity. For now, I am still a Newfie Princess in training.
These are the amateur but much appreciated results. (note the pattern is the same though size, colour, function altered – manly afghan for Poppy, feminine walker seat cover for Nanny) Managed to finish these during my two weeks in Newfoundland for the family reunion/65th wedding anniversary celebration. While others were dancing and whooping it up, I’d be in the corner knitting frantically to the music, to get my offerings wrapped up before the big reveal. NEXT UP: something for my beloved maternal grandmother who supervised and assisted with some of my joining stitches. Not that she couldn’t knit whatever I come up with in a quarter of the time and 100% better!
I love the continuity my grandparents give me. As someone who moved almost every year until pretty recently, I’m often amazed that they all still live in the very houses that they did when I was born. You can’t buy that kind of anchor. Poppy has written and published his memoirs for the family. I keep hoping my stitches won’t unravel, but will hold firm.
My Nannies are my grandmothers. I have two, and one grandfather (Poppy) here in Newfoundland where I have come for two weeks. After a frenzied week of preparing for a clan gathering where we hosted approximately 300 guests at a hugely successful 65th wedding anniversary reunion, I am just now coming down from the high of family time, and getting enough sleep to be coherent. Cousins came from all over Canada and the US but now are trickling away in small groups every day. I’ll be the last one left.
It’s hard to be the last one left, as the mood shifts from fun and frivolity to nostalgia and guilt over not staying longer, even though you’ve been here the longest.
I don’t know anyone with three grandparents left at my age. I was 30 before I lost my first one. They are the anchors for me and my family. I know in my mind it can’t be, but in my heart, I still think they will live forever.
Knitting frantically during every spare moment has left my hands cramped, but provided more of that moving mediation that I have sought this year. There’s less of a caloric burn, but it’s still effective. I’ve finished knitting a small masculine throw/afghan for Poppy, to put over his lap when he’s booting around on his scooter. He likes to get out, but with poor circulation, he gets cold. My project has taken me more time than it would have either of my Nannies, but he will know I did it. The flaws are not subtle – it is clearly my creation. But, he will also know how much of me, how many thoughts and memories I had time for as I clicked away on the 4.5 sized needles, cramming a month’s worth of knitting into one short week.
Now, I’m stitching it together. It doesn’t look as polished as I’d like, but I love the feel of the high quality European yarn, and the colours, blocks of shimmery gray with deep brown and blue make me happy. I’d like to wrap him in it and keep him safe forever.