It's been awhile since I've tried, and I was wanting to get back into it. Knitting seems such a masterful craft, all competance and wise old woman-ish. I wanted to learn how to be that, so I decided to start with mittens. You know, something simple.
Optimism is a beautiful thing. I've titled the above picture that.
But as I worked, it appeared I was creating a monster. Bumps and bulges emerged under my none-to-perfect castings on and offs. I wasn't so sure of the pattern, so I improvised from time to time...add a stitch here, add a stitch there.
I shared my project with a circle of venerable knitters, my crafting grandmas. They peered at my first attempt at ribbing. "Is that a cable knit you're trying there?"
But I kept going.
True knitters everywhere, might wish I hadn't.
The second mitten was a decided improvement. Mom had an epiphany about the way I was holding the needles, as we speed down the highway at 130 kph. I'm afraid I snatched them back.
But she was right. See? This is a much better mitten...just ignore the cuff. I simply think, that needles and wool rather have a mind of their own.
This is a mildly humiliating picture to share.
BUT! I show it to you to give hope to your faintest, feeblest, crafting dreams. It might not turn out perfectly, or even well, but you're closer to getting better than you were before you started. (Or something like that.)
It is all part of living each day full and a little crazy. Nothing like knitting on the wild side.