Yarn

It seems I've always crocheted. When I was a little girl, my mother taught me the single crochet stitch, sat me down with some red yarn and had me make what turned out to be a wonky, somewhat ugly scarf. During this time, my friend Fawn, who lived outside of town on a little farm decided that she wanted to learn how to make a sweater. Being Fawn complicated things.


Myself, Shane, and Fawn on Fawn's farm circa 1985/6ish


On Fawn's farm, there was an old farm hand's house just behind her house that she used for her own personal museum, which consisted of feathers and bones, rocks and other bits of nature that she'd collected. There was one time when she'd found a dead hawk, and had attempted boiling it on the stove to remove the flesh so she could display the skeleton. So, learning to make a sweater didn't involve a trip to Kmart and the purchase of a ball of red heart yarn and some knitting needles. Oh no. She had to know the entire process, from the sheep onward. So, because my mom knew of a ranch that sold wool, spinning and knitting supplies, the four of us, mom, Fawn's mom Joyce, Fawn and I piled into the car one day to check it out.

I don't remember much about the place except for the actual store front they used to sell their wool. It was a small building that overlooked a field of sheep, with mountains jutting out of the sky on either side. The sunlight drifted easily into the little room that housed the spinning wheels, roving, and yarn. We bought little spinners like these-


and some roving and got started. Fawn produced a small ball of yarn, and that was about it. But if it didn't do much for her (or perhaps it did, and anyway, I'm forever grateful she had this idea), it did something for me. While I wasn't enamored at the time with the spinning idea, I wanted to learn to knit, but alas- no one in my family knew how. I was never sure how Fawn was going to learn- perhaps she thought she'd use a book, or maybe she knew someone who would have taught her. But with one thing and another, I never found the time to ask.

Later on in highschool, I spent hours working the front desk phone system. Before anyone is further confused, I attended a boarding school and worked part time all four years to help support myself. At night in the winter, the doors would open and cold air would blast in, and my little cold hands would get colder. I began to crochet again about this time. Instead of doing homework at the front desk, I would sit and crochet more scarves, a hat or two, a blanket- and it helped keep me warm. Another benefit was that it helped give my somewhat fidgety hands something to do, and it calmed my anxious mind. Crochet became a type of meditation.

One problem I had with crochet was that I couldn't read patterns. I say problem, but I sometimes wonder if this wasn't a little bit of a blessing. Because of this, I had to figure it out for myself, and I did. For a kid who didn't feel overly intelligent at the best of times, it gave my self-esteem a little boost. And I still wanted to learn to knit.

Years went by, and this last summer found my husband asking again and again what I wanted for my birthday in August. I honestly couldn't think of anything I really wanted or needed at the time. And then my sister mentioned that she was thinking about taking a knitting class- and this reawakened my old idea. So, my birthday present led me back to yarn. So far I've made several scarves for various people, and this time I know how to read patterns. Here are a few of the pieces I've finished since October-

sample scarf










fish hat pattern- http://www.knitty.com/ISSUEwinter08/PATTfishy.php